


After the End

by eemwrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Bad Parent John Winchester, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, Fluff and Angst, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt Dean Winchester, M/M, Supportive Sibling Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:13:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 39,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29826864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eemwrites/pseuds/eemwrites
Summary: After the apocalypse is over, Dean meets Castiel, an angel turned human. After ten years without physical or emotional contact from another person (besides his brother), Dean realizes he has a lot of past trauma to work through.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 23
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I also post my books on Wattpad (_SterekTrash_) but the mature scenes are a less detailed/left out. If you want the full experience, read them here :) If you want to read my Sterek fanfiction, you can find those on my Wattpad.

Dean missed the days when he and Sam could walk the earth freely killing monsters and saving people. He never thought things would get so bad that they, the Winchesters, would have to go into hiding. When it happened, it was so unexpected that they didn’t have time to talk to any of their friends or family. Dean remembered it vividly, ten years ago, the wave of demon infected undead killing people left and right. Dean had dragged Sammy into the bunker, secured the perimeter, locked up the entrances, and that was where they stayed. They developed a set of rules over that extended period of time. They never left alone, always together. If they were to encounter someone in living flesh, they were not to approach that person. Dean grew up not trusting anyone but his father and his brother, and he wasn’t about to start now. 

When the apocalypse started, Sam had been away from Dean and John for almost a year and was rusty when it came to hunting, so he blindly followed his older brother. In all of the chaos, they were separated from their father. Dean assumed he was dead, but he was desensitized to death by now. Even before the apocalypse, he had seen enough death to not be surprised. It all started when his mother was killed by a demon. Since then, nothing really phased him.

Every month, Dean and Sam made a supply run. They killed their fair share of the undead, had a few brushes with death, but they always made it back alive. Every day in the bunker was the same. The undead scratched at their door, reminding Dean of the inevitable fate that he would someday succumb to. He wasn’t stupid. He knew he and Sam wouldn’t be able to outrun them forever. The days stretched on and on, blending together until Dean couldn’t remember how long it had been.

Today was different. When Dean woke up, there was no scratching at the doors. There were no sounds of bones crunching as the undead had their breakfast right outside where he slept. It was silent, for the first time in years. Dean sat up, rubbing his eyes as he looked around the dark room. The bunker didn’t have windows and the generators had stopped working a few years before, so the only light they ever got came from candles, which they burned only when they needed to in order to conserve their resources. 

“Sammy, you hear that?” he asked, his voice rough with sleep. He threw his blanket to the side, pushing himself up off the floor where he had been sleeping to keep an eye on Sam the past few days. He walked over to where Sam slept, checking on him with a worried expression on his face. “Hey, you feeling any better?” he said, cautiously touching Sam’s forehead. He still had a fever. They hadn’t eaten in three days because their resources were dwindling, but Sam had come down with something else. A bad cold, maybe. Not eating didn’t help, but they had no choice. 

“I’m fine,” Sam whispered, wiping the sweat from his head. He gave Dean a reassuring look, but Dean knew better. “It’s quiet today,” he noticed, sitting up to face Dean, as if he wasn’t deathly ill. “It’d be a good day to make a supply run.”

Dean frowned, shaking his head. “You’re not going anywhere,” he retorted, stepping away from his brother to gather his weapons for a run. “I’ll go, you sit tight. I’ll find some medicine while I’m out-”

“Dean, the rules,” Sam argued, slowly pushing himself to stand up. Dean could see how weak his illness made him. There was no way Sam would make it through a supply run with the undead on their tails, no matter how quiet it was out there. “You should know better, you made them. We don’t go out there alone,” Sam said, using Dean’s own words against him. He was good at that. 

"Yeah, well it’s a good thing I make the rules then,” Dean snapped, throwing his gun over his shoulder as he approached the door. “You stay here, Sam. I’m not arguing.” Before giving Sam a chance to argue, Dean removed the blockade and quietly shut the door behind him. He expected to be swarmed by the undead, so he had his gun loaded and ready to shoot, but the danger never came. The undead were scattered across the ground, as if they had just dropped dead all at once. He didn’t hear anything but the wind, but that didn’t mean he could let his guard down. He walked cautiously through the streets, looking for a house he hadn’t yet emptied of supplies. Even with just the two of them in town, over the span of ten years, they cleaned out most of the non-perishables.

Dean groaned as the disgusting smell of corpses cooking in the sun filled his nose, making his empty stomach churn. If he had anything to throw up, it would have already been on the ground. He had no idea what was going on, but it seemed as if the dead were just. . . well, dead. There hadn’t been a single supply run where they weren’t ambushed by the stupid zombies as soon as they opened the bunker door, so something had to be up. 

“You son of a bitches are disgusting,” he grumbled to himself, stepping over a rotting body as he approached the doors to the convenience store at the farthest end of town, their least frequented stop. He kept his gun close as he pushed open the doors, the sound of his boots hitting the ground echoing around the store. He opened his bag and started picking things off the shelf. He took as much as he could hold in the bag and grabbed the last case of water off the shelf too. He couldn’t find any medicine for Sam, but at least he could make his little brother eat some food. That would help some. 

As Dean stepped away from the shelf, waters in his hands, he heard a faint scuff of a shoe on the floor behind him. He froze, dropping the waters as his hand flew to his gun. He spun around, pointing it at the source of the sound, his finger ready to pull the trigger.

“Don’t shoot,” the man said, his hands up in surrender. Dean didn’t move, his eyes searching the man from head to toe. He wore a trench coat and a suit, torn in multiple places. From his face, Dean could tell he wasn’t scared of him, even with the gun at his head. Still, he didn’t look malicious either. His blue eyes seemed understanding. . . trustworthy, even. “I didn’t realize anyone was here. We were just passing through.”

“Who’s we?” Dean demanded, his fingers falling from the trigger, but he didn’t lower the gun just yet. 

The man slowly dropped his hands back to his sides, glancing outside the store. Dean followed his eyes, but saw no one. “My nephew and I,” he answered, meeting Dean’s questioning stare again. “The name’s Castiel,” he offered, as if that would clear everything up. “I don’t want any trouble. We’re just hungry.”

Dean hesitated a few moments before sighing, his empathy getting the best of him. He lowered his gun, letting it hang on his shoulder as he stepped closer to Castiel, surprised when the man didn’t flinch. “I can get you a meal, but after that, get the hell out of my sight,” he huffed, walking out the door quickly as the man followed hot on his heel. Outside, Dean was met face to face with a young boy, probably around sixteen. His eyes widened in fear when he saw Dean, his hands quickly thrown up in defense to protect his face. 

“Jack, he’s not going to hurt you,” Cas said, his voice calming as he pulled the boy’s hands away from his face. “This nice man said he can feed us tonight. You’re hungry, aren’t you?” 

Jack glanced at Dean, his look of fear fading slowly as he nodded. “Thank you, sir,” he said softly.

Dean rolled his eyes, his arms getting heavy with the weight of the cans in his bag and water in his arms. “Just call me Dean,” he grunted, gesturing with his head for them to follow. He wasn’t sure why he was helping them because he never cared about the other survivors before. It was every man for themselves in this world. He knew he could take these guys easily if they turned out to be crazy murderers, but Cas just didn’t fit that description. 

“Dean, thank you for the help,” Cas said, falling into step beside him as they walked back towards the bunker. Jack walked close behind them. “We were in hiding for a week without food. When we didn’t hear the undead feeding on people outside anymore, we set out in search of a meal with no luck.”

“It’s not much,” Dean argued, hating the attention. He hadn’t talked to anyone other than his brother in ten years, so he wasn’t sure how to take these compliments. He wasn’t really being nice, it was just basic human decency. Feeding hungry strangers, and a child at that, was the bare minimum for not being evil. Once upon a time, Dean saved people every day. “I noticed it was quiet today, too. What do you think’s up with that?” He was trying to make light conversation to ease the awkward silence, but he hated small talk. He always did, even before the apocalypse. 

“It’s impossible to tell,” Cas answered. “God’s been pretty absent, so I doubt this was his doing. The end of the end of the world, I mean.”

“Right, God,” Dean laughed, shaking his head. He’d dealt with a lot of monsters in his life, enough to know that anything was possible, but God was a deal breaker. If the guy was real, he would’ve stopped the apocalypse by now, before billions of people died. “If I ever met that dude, I’d have a lot to say,” he joked. 

“He’s not much of a conversationalist,” Cas deadpanned. Dean thought it was a joke at first, but Cas didn’t crack even the smallest of smiles. He decided to just let that one go because he didn’t want to get into religion anyways. They walked the last ten minutes in silence. When they reached the bunker, Dean could see his guests were impressed. “This place looks secure,” Cas observed. 

Dean unlocked the door, letting them inside before barricading it behind them. “Yeah, we inherited it from our family,” Dean explained, meeting them at the bottom of the stairs. “You two sit tight, I’m going to get my little brother up so he can eat too.”

“Brother?” Cas stopped him, before he could even turn away from them. He could have mentioned it earlier, but it didn’t come up. Not that these guys needed to know anyways. 

“Yeah, Sam,” Dean answered, hesitating in the doorway. “He’s got a cold, so keep your distance.” He left a confused Cas sitting in the dining room with Jack, quickly making his way to Sam’s room. He gently opened the door, his eyes finding Sammy curled up under his blanket. “Hey, I grabbed some dinner,” he said.

Sam mumbled something Dean didn’t understand, tossing and turning until he finally faced Dean, his face pale and sweaty. “Did you have any trouble?” he asked, referring to the undead. “I should’ve been with you.”

Dean rolled his eyes, giving Sammy a small chuckle. “The heat alone would’ve killed you, dude,” he argued. “And no, there weren’t any flesh eating demon zombies, if that’s what you meant. I did, however, run into this guy and his kid nephew, so I uh- I invited them here for a meal.”

Sam was quiet as he sat up, his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “But Dean, the rules are-”

“I know the rules, Sammy. I made them,” Dean cut him off, moving across the room to get to him. “I never said I trusted them. We’re just feeding them and then they’re gone. I couldn’t let the kid go hungry, alright?” He gently pulled the blanket from Sam’s shoulders, helping him to his feet. “Come meet them for yourselves. Just don’t get attached.”

“Alright, fine,” Sam sighed, following close behind Dean as they walked to the dining room where Cas and Jack were still sitting patiently, the same place Dean had left them. Sam hesitantly pulled out a chair, sitting down across from them. “Uh, hi,” he mumbled.

Dean cleared his throat to fill the silence, resting his hands on the back of Sam’s chair. “Sam, this is Jack and Cas,” Dean introduced them, since they weren’t going to introduce themselves. 

“Cas?” Jack questioned, giving his uncle a curious glance. “Is that a. . . what do you call it?”

“A nickname,” Cas finished for him, making Jack’s face light up as he realized the word. Dean noticed this kid was odd, but he wasn’t one to judge.

Dean’s face felt a little red as he realized he did, in fact, give Castiel a nickname. It just rolled off the tongue better than his full name. “No big deal. Castiel is just a mouthful,” Dean defended himself. It didn’t mean anything. They wouldn’t see each other after tonight anyways.

Jack wore that confused face again as he looked at Cas for a better explanation. “You’re a mouthful?” he asked, eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out what it meant.

Dean’s face was about as red as Cas’ was as they both realized how it sounded. “No, Jack,” Dean quickly corrected him. “His name is a mouthful. It’s just easier to say Cas instead.”

Sam was dying of silent laughter from his chair and if he hadn’t been weak and sick, Dean would have smacked him in the back of the head. “I like these guys,” Sam mumbled through his laughter. 

Jack grinned. “We like you guys too,” he replied, happily. Despite the fact they were going separate ways after this, he still looked so at peace and happy around Sam and Dean. 

“On that note, I’m going to go fix some plates for dinner,” Dean excused himself, leaving the three of them to talk amongst themselves. He wandered into the kitchen, digging out some disposable bowls he had managed to find on his last run. He didn’t have a way to heat anything unless he cooked outside, which wasn’t often. Instead, he opened some cans of soup he had found at the store today and emptied them into four separate bowls. They had spoons that had to be washed, which was done with river water. Not the most clean source of water, but it was all they had. After the bowls were filled, he piled his arms up with them and walked back into the dining room to give them out. They kept water in the dining room. Usually, he and Sam split one bottle per dinner, but they had guests, so he thought it would be okay to give everyone their own just this once. 

“Thank you so much, Dean,” Jack gushed, his eyes wide as he stared at his soup in front of him. 

“No problem, kid,” Dean answered, watching as he started shoveling spoonfuls of food into his mouth. He must have really been starving, the way he ate. Cas shook his head at his nephew, but didn’t scold him. Dean took the seat next to Cas, amused by their relationship and how weird this kid was. “So, how old are you anyways?” Dean asked, trying to make small talk so they didn’t eat in silence. 

Jack froze, his spoon hanging out of his mouth as he looked at Cas. “I. . . I think I’ve been alive for five years, right Cas?” he asked, as if he were serious. Dean thought this was some kind of odd joke, but the kid seemed to be serious. Cas looked defeated as he tried to find some way to address the situation. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Dean demanded, raising an eyebrow as he waited for Cas’ reply. “There’s no way he’s only five. He’s clearly a teenager.”

“It’s complicated,” Cas sighed. He glared at Jack, probably for bringing this up. It was Dean’s fault that he asked about the kid’s age, but he wasn’t expecting something like this to come up. “Jack is a Nephilim. His dad was an angel, his mother a human. He aged very quickly as a baby."

“Angels?” Sam doubted, shaking his head in disbelief. Dean was in the same boat. Cas had been talking about God earlier, but Dean thought it was just jokes. He didn’t think there was actually a God, or angels for that matter. Demons were real, so he supposed it could be true, but even so, why had he never met an angel before now?

“Yes,” Jack answered, matter of factly. “Cas is an angel too, but not half like me. We. . . don’t have powers anymore.” His face fell as he said that last line, his eyes staring at the scratches in the table.

“What happened to your powers?” Dean inquired, as if he fully believed them. He wasn’t sure he did yet, but it seemed possible.

Cas sighed, clearly unwilling to talk about this. Still, he had no choice since Jack brought it up. “We don’t know,” he admitted. “When the demon virus attacked the people, the angels were cast down to earth. We had our powers then, but somehow, they just disappeared.” He looked incredibly uncomfortable, but Dean needed more answers. He chose to trust this man enough to invite him into the bunker, yet he had already been lying. Or withholding the truth, at least. “I didn’t think it important enough to tell you, since this is the only time we’ll meet. And I’m not an angel anymore. I’m just human, like you.”

“If angels are real, then that means God is too,” Sam realized, the dark circles under his eyes making him look like a completely different person. I hadn’t looked at him much in the light, but with the candles lighting up his skin, it was much more visible. “Why hasn’t he done anything?”

“The zombies are dead, Sam,” Dean interrupted, though he wasn’t sure why he was defending a guy who he didn’t believe in five minutes ago. “When I was out there earlier, I didn’t see a single undead.”

“I don’t know if it’s His doing,” Cas replied, his face full of doubt. “My father has been absent for a long time. No one has spoken to him.” 

Dean finished the last of his dinner, pushing his bowl away as he tried to take in all of this new information. “Well, no matter who’s doing this is, the zombies seem to be gone. That means the living are going to be coming out, along with the monsters. It’s still just as dangerous out there.” 

“Yes,” Cas agreed, a frown set on his lips. He glanced at Jack, as if expressing his worry for the boy. Dean understood needing to protect your family and he felt bad about kicking them out after this. “Anyways, thank you for the meal. We should get going.” He pushed his empty bowl into the middle of the table with Dean’s, waiting for Jack to do the same. As they started to stand up, Sam stopped them. 

“It’s late,” he said, hesitantly glancing at Dean to see his reaction. Dean bit his cheek, not saying anything. “Maybe you guys could just stay here tonight. Like Dean said, the monsters are going to be out again soon, and they’re going to be hungry.”

Cas looked between the two brothers, searching for something to respond with. Finally, he smiled awkwardly, shaking his head. “That’s a kind offer, Sam, but we wouldn’t want to intrude. We’ll just find an abandoned house to sleep for the night and-”

“You’re not intruding,” Dean cut him off, cursing himself for even considering this. They had rules for a reason, but somehow, this guy was causing Dean to break them without hesitation. “Sam’s right, it’s too dangerous. I’m not sending a kid out there. Jack, you take the guest room. Cas, you can sleep in my bed,” he said, without giving them a choice. He waited for them to object so he could tell them too bad, but they didn’t. Instead, Cas’ face just turned a bright red as he stumbled over something to say. Dean quickly realized his words and how it sounded like he wanted Cas to sleep with him. “I’ll be sleeping on Sam’s floor,” he explained quickly, his own face heating up again. “I’ve been keeping an eye on him since he’s been sick anyways. What’s one more night?”

Cas hesitated, considering it. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice soft and uncertain. 

“Positive,” Dean replied, standing up to collect the trash off the table. He threw the bowls away and put the dishes in the sink before returning to the dining room. Jack and Sam were deep in conversation as Sam tried to explain different kinds of monsters and how to hunt them to the poor kid. “I’m sure you guys are exhausted. How about I show you to your rooms?” Dean offered, saving Jack from another second of Sam’s endless knowledge. 

“Thank you,” Jack said, a gracious smile on his face.

Dean nodded as a reply, gesturing for them to follow him. He pointed at Sam before he took them down the hall, giving his brother a serious look. “You get back to bed, Sammy. You need rest if you’re going to get any better.”

“I’m going,” Sam waved him off, pushing his chair back from the table. Satisfied, Dean led the other two towards where they would be staying. 

First, he took Jack to the guest room. “Bathroom is just down the hall to the right. If you need anything, Sam’s room is across the bunker. Just yell for me and I’ll find you, okay?”

“Got it, Dean, thanks,” Jack replied, a boyish grin on his face. 

Dean closed the door behind him, then led Cas to his room. Dean felt a little weird letting another person sleep in his bed, but there weren’t any other beds in the bunker, so he really didn’t have a choice. When he reached his room, he opened the door, walking in first as Cas followed close behind him, shutting the door. The sound of the door closing made Dean jump, but he knew Cas was harmless. 

“So this is my room,” he mumbled, looking around at the mess. He bit his lip for a moment, thinking to himself as he turned to his dresser and began digging through his clothes. He found a pair of plaid pajama pants and an old Led Zeppelin t-shirt and then closed the drawer, turning back to face the angel. “I thought you might want something more comfortable to sleep in,” he offered, extending the clothes out to Cas. 

“Oh, thank you,” Cas replied, setting the clothes on the bed as he immediately began to strip his clothes off. Dean’s eyes widened in surprise, the heat creeping up his neck as he told himself to look away, but he couldn’t. He watched Cas’ back muscles move as he dressed himself. Shifting uncomfortably on his feet, Dean tried to think of something else to say, so it wasn’t so awkward. Cas turned around before Dean could think of anything, holding his suit and trench coat in his arms. “Uh, I appreciate this, Dean,” he said, an endearing look on his face. 

“It’s nothing,” Dean nearly whispered, taking the clothes from Cas’ arms. He silently hung them up in the closet, which he never used anymore. He was too lazy to hang his own clothes, but he didn’t want to ruin Cas’ clothes by wadding them up like he did his own wardrobe. “Don’t rush off in the morning. I’ll make sure you guys have a meal before you leave, alright?” 

Cas smiled, sitting on the edge of Dean’s bed, his hair slightly messy. Dean hadn’t had feelings like this in a long time, so he was having a hard time placing them. When he was a teenager, he dated a lot of girls, and occasionally hooked up with a guy, before his dad caught him and he didn't try that again. Since the apocalypse, he hadn’t seen anyone, man or woman, so he sort of forgot what it was like to be attracted to someone like this. The way Cas looked in Dean’s clothes made his chest tight. 

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Cas said, his voice quiet. “Goodnight, Dean.”

Dean swallowed hard, ignoring the tightness in his chest. “Yeah,” he mumbled, his hand hesitating on the doorknob. He sighed softly, turning out the light as Cas crawled under the blankets. “Goodnight, Cas.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no updating schedule, but I'll try to update every week! Generally, my chapters are pretty short, but I make up for that by writing so many chapters lol. Also sorry for any typos, I don't have anyone to read over my work for me!

Dean woke the next morning before everyone else, so he thought he would make breakfast outside on the fire for a change. With the undead gone, for now at least, he felt comfortable enough on his own outside the bunker. He grabbed everything he needed to cook and set the fire, including a gun for safety measures, and made his way up top. He let the fire burn for a moment as he cleaned out his pots and sorted through his ingredients. He boiled some water, one pot for the rice and one for the coffee. It was made with water from the river, but it wouldn’t kill them. It just may taste a little funny. As he let that cook, he sat off to the side, watching the sun rise as he thought to himself. Supplies were running low and he was tired of living in darkness. Now that the undead were basically gone, he was considering moving on to somewhere else. Maybe they could circle back to the bunker, but they had to go in search of more supplies. Once Sammy was healthy again, he’d bring up the idea. 

Soon, the food was done and he brought it inside to set the table. He portioned out the rice between four plates, poured four cups of coffee and found some cups of creamer they had saved. He also gave everyone an energy bar, which was a luxury item he managed to find under the shelves at one of the grocery stores. Once everything was set up, he went to wake everyone. First, he woke Sam, sending him to the table. Then Jack, who was already up and staring at the wall, as if he couldn’t leave the room. Dean gave him an odd look, but sent him to the kitchen to eat with Sam. Finally, he knocked on the door to where Cas slept, waiting for a reply before opening the door. 

“Food’s ready,” Dean told him, noticing Cas was already dressed in his own clothes again. Dean stepped into the room, glancing around at the freshly cleaned space. His clothes were neatly folded in his dresser drawers, his dirty clothes piled into a basket he forgot he had. Everything on his desk was organized neatly, a candle lit up on the shelf to illuminate the cleanliness. “Did you clean in here? Cas, you didn’t have to do that.” He felt a wave of embarrassment, thinking about Cas going through all of his things. It was a nice gesture, but this guy didn't even know Dean. 

“I just wanted to repay you for everything you’ve done for us,” Cas replied, looking away nervously, as if Dean would be angry that he cleaned up in here. While he was embarrassed that Cas probably picked up a lot of dirty clothes off the floor, he wasn’t angry. “I promise, as soon as we eat, we’ll be out of your hair.” He acted like him being there was such a pain, but admittedly, Dean liked having someone else besides Sam in the bunker. He knew Castiel couldn't stay and he understood why. He just wanted to enjoy the company while he could. For now, they at least had breakfast. 

“No rush,” Dean assured him, waving him towards the door. “Now, go eat. I’ll be in there in just a minute.” He gently shoved Cas out into the hall, pointing him towards the dining room. Once he was gone, Dean grabbed one of his many duffle bags from under his bed. He put the clothes Cas slept in at the bottom of the bag, because there was no way Cas could keep wearing that suit everywhere. He also put a pair of jeans and a couple more shirts in the bag, in case he wanted something more comfortable. Since they had no protection, he even gave up one of his guns and some ammo, which he hoped Cas knew how to use. After he got everything from his room, he went to the kitchen, adding a few cans of food and some waters. He wanted to make sure they had enough supplies for the next few days, since there wasn’t much left around here. 

When the bag was full, he joined everyone in the dining room, carefully dropping the bag next to Cas’ feet. Cas looked up at Dean with a questioning look, his mouth half full of rice. “What’s this for?” he asked finally.

Dean licked his lips, taking the seat next to Cas so he could eat too. “Just a couple things you might need for the next few days. I don’t want you two starving to death out there.” He didn’t look at the angel, instead focusing on his food in front of him. They were all almost done eating and Dean hadn’t touched his yet. 

“Are you sure, Dean? I mean, you and Sam need this stuff too,” Cas replied, worriedly. Dean tried not to stare at him, even when the candle light caught his eyes just right that the blue in them shined, or maybe they sparkled. Dean didn't think about it too hard before looking down at his food. 

“It’s fine,” Sam said for him, waving Cas off. “We have plenty for the next month. You guys need it more than we do right now.” Dean was surprised Sam was on the same page as him about this, but he wasn’t going to say anything about it. Sam had always been the more understanding of the two. When Dean made the rule to never speak to strangers, Sam tried to object. He countered with an argument that not all people were evil and trying to kill them. It only took one experience, one stupid asshole who pulled a gun on Sam, and Dean put his foot down. Sam, the one who had a gun pointed at him, tried to reason that some people were still good. Dean didn't believe it. Not until now, at least. Even now, though, they didn't know Cas. He could have been lying about the whole angel thing. He could have secretly been plotting their death. Dean really doubted that, but he couldn't help the way his head worked. 

“If you’re sure,” Cas said, his small smile grateful. He had finished his plate, every last bite, and pushed it away from him with a small sigh. “Thank you both for all of this. Jack and I should be going now, while we have the daylight.” He excused himself from the table, hanging Dean’s bag from his shoulder as he gestured for Jack to follow him. The kid had finished his food a while ago, having scarfed it down like it was the first time he'd eaten in months. 

“I’ll walk you out,” Dean offered, despite his full plate of food sitting in front of him getting colder by the minute. He felt the need to see them out, just to watch them walk off into the distance. He felt like if he didn't, something ridiculous would happen, like a werewolf jumping out to eat them despite it not even being a full moon. He stood up, giving Sammy a look to make sure he stayed there to eat, since he needed to gain his strength back. Dean followed Cas and Jack up the stairs, removing the blockade for them to get outside. Again, today was quiet and the undead were nowhere to be seen. “It’s nice out today. I made sure to put water in that bag, so stay hydrated, okay?” He felt odd, caring about someone else’s safety other than his own, or Sam’s, but somehow he couldn’t stop himself. 

Suddenly, Jack’s arms circled around Dean’s waist, squeezing him tightly in the first hug he’d had in years. “Thank you, Dean,” he said, holding on until Dean reluctantly patted his back. He hadn't even hugged Sam in years, maybe not even once since this whole end of the world thing. It was an odd feeling, being this close and personal with anyone, but at the same time, it was a nice change. It was almost enough for Dean to ask them both to stay for a while longer, but he didn't.

“Jack,” Cas warned, grabbing his shirt to pull him away from Dean with a small tug. “Personal space.”

“It’s fine,” Dean assured him, giving Jack a small smile. “Be careful out there,” he added, watching them walk away. He wasn’t sure why, but there was a knot in his stomach that he chose to ignore. Once they were out of sight, which took nearly five minutes for them to turn out of view at the end of the block, Dean headed back inside to finish his meal. Sam hadn’t moved from the table, but his food was gone. “You get enough to eat?” Dean asked him, offering his own serving to his brother. He was hungry, but Sam was the sick one. 

“Eat your food,” Sam retorted, pushing it back to Dean. “I’m already feeling better.” Dean didn’t really believe him, but he knew Sammy wouldn’t let him go hungry, so he ate anyways. For a while, they sat in silence, until Dean had cleaned his plate and finished his cup of coffee. “Are you okay? You’re quiet today,” Sam noticed, leaning on his elbows as he stared at his brother. He always wore that look when he had something to say, but knew Dean would only shut down if he said it. Dean knew it was about Castiel and Jack. Sam wanted to talk about them. He wanted to ask if Dean was upset that they left, but he didn't. Still, the look said it all, and it made Dean inhale sharply, wishing he couldn't read his brother so easily.

“I’m fine,” Dean snapped, pushing himself away from the table. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.” He didn’t wait for Sam to push him anymore, because if he let him, he might get to the bottom of Dean’s feelings, which he didn’t ever want to address. He cleared the table, washed up the dishes, and then shut himself in his room.

He lit a candle to put beside his bed and nestled into the blankets on his bed, getting comfortable so he could read in peace. As he opened the cover of the book, he realized he was sitting on something, so he felt around the blankets until he pulled a dark blue tie from under him. He quickly realized Cas had left it, but there was no way he’d get it to him now. He could run after them since it hadn’t been more than an hour since they left, but he figured Cas wouldn’t miss the insignificant piece of clothing anyways. Instead, he folded it up into a square and placed it in his pocket before returning to his book. He spent most of the day reading and thinking, trying to stay away from thinking about how he sent Cas and Jack out into a trap. With the zombies gone, the monsters were going to be on a feeding frenzy, he just knew it. They’d been starving for ten years.

After feeding Sam a small dinner, they cleaned the guns and machetes and counted their inventory, a weekly occurrence. Sam tried to start a conversation and Dean was half present for it, but he wasn’t really in the mood. Eventually, they went their separate ways and turned in for the night. Dean tossed and turned for hours, his eyes closed, begging for sleep, but he couldn’t shake that feeling that something bad had happened to Cas and Jack. He wasn’t sure how long he fought sleep, but eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore. 

He dragged himself out of bed, sleep deprived but determined, and dressed himself in jeans and a flannel. First, he stopped by Sam’s room to see if he was sleeping. When the door opened, it creaked, waking Sam easily. The younger man sat up, rubbing his eyes sleepily. “Dean, what’s wrong?” he asked, groggily. 

“Just checking on you,” Dean answered, lingering in the doorway. The silence settled only for a moment as Dean thought about telling him where he was going. It would make Sam happy, most likely, but he would also want to come with him. Sam was still recovering from his intense cold and could hardly walk across the bunker without coughing up a lung. There was no way Dean was letting him outside the bunker. 

“You’re worried about them, aren’t you?” Sam guessed, somehow always right. Even in the dark, Dean could just see that smug look on Sam's face. He'd never say the words 'I told you so' to Dean's face unless he wanted to get kicked in the shin, but his face said it for him. 

Dean shifted on his feet, his boots scraping across the floor. “Yeah, I am,” he admitted. “You just stay here and rest. I’m gonna see if I can find them and bring them back here, okay?” He gave in, knowing he couldn't keep anything from Sam. He should have told them to stay in the first place, but his need to make everyone out as the bad guy stopped him. He never trusted anyone, so his brain told him these guys were no different. Every other part of him, however, said differently. They were just too innocent to be evil. 

“Please be careful,” Sam replied as he yawned, pulling the blanket back over his shoulders when he laid back down in the bed. “Let me know if you find them.” It was odd he didn't put up more of a fight, or ask to come along. Maybe Sam knew Dean needed to do this alone. Or he just didn't feel well enough to get out of bed, which was a more believable option. 

Dean hesitated a minute longer in the doorway, realizing Sam had already fallen back asleep. He gently closed the door behind him and quietly went to the garage where they kept the weapons, and more importantly, Baby. He hadn’t driven her in years because of the undead, but he had faith she still ran like she used to. He stocked the trunk with weapons, including various guns and knives in case he ran into trouble. After everything was packed, he opened up the garage door and then sank into the front seat of the Impala, relishing in the feeling of being in his precious car again. He only gave himself a moment to appreciate her before he started her up, victorious. He ran his hands over the wheel, a small smile on his face as he pulled out into the street. He couldn't remember which way Cas went, but he followed his gut and went to the left. He’d drive all night and all through the morning if he had to just to make sure they were okay. It wasn’t like he had much else to do anyways.

Dean drove for an hour before he came across a house to check out. He parked the car out front and walked around the house, peeking in the windows to see if he could find anyone. He couldn’t just walk in if Cas was in there because he didn’t want to scare them. Unfortunately, there was no one in the first house. Dean even went inside after checking the windows and did a sweep of the house, but no luck. He did this for every house he passed for the next two hours. He was beginning to think it was a lost cause, ready to turn around and go home. He’d go the opposite direction tomorrow after getting some sleep. 

He decided to drive a little longer, just because he still didn’t think he’d be able to sleep unless he tried harder to find them. Just as he thought he should give up, something caught his eye. The faintest light coming from a window of a house. It almost looked like a candle, which Dean had put into Cas’ bag in case they needed extra light. 

He parked on the street, pocketing his keys in the same pocket that held Cas’ tie. Cautiously, he approached the front door, listening closely to see if he could hear any voices. After a few seconds, he heard Cas’ deep voice muffled through the door. Dean knocked softly, hoping that was enough to convey he wasn't there to hurt them. When Cas fell silent, Dean knew he had been heard. “Cas, it’s me,” Dean said, loud enough to be heard through the door. He wasn't sure why his hands were shaking, but he shoved them in his pockets, ignoring it. 

A few seconds passed before the door opened an inch, Cas’ eyes staring into Dean’s. “It’s really you?” he challenged, not budging from the doorway. Dean was sure Sam had taught him about the different monsters that could look like people you knew. Shifters, Demons, and probably more he couldn't name right now due to pure exhaustion. The only thing he could focus on was the light in Cas' eyes, even at night. The blue was illuminated by the soft glow of the moon, staring into Dean's in such a tender way, it almost made Dean smile. But he had to focus.

“It’s really me,” Dean promised. “I don’t have any holy water or silver to prove it, Cas. I’m sorry.” He hoped Cas would believe him on trust alone, but he understood if not. Dean wouldn’t have been quick to trust anybody either. Cas continued staring through the crack in the door, as if deciding whether or not to trust Dean. “Look, I couldn’t sleep. I was worried you guys would get into trouble. I had to look for you. . .” he trailed off, embarrassing himself. His face felt hot, but he refused to look away from those gentle eyes. He knew Cas would let him in, he just had to give him a minute. 

“Cas, let him in!” Jack called from inside. Cas sighed, hesitating for a moment longer before moving away from the door to let Dean into the house. The door shut behind them and Jack threw himself at Dean as soon as he saw him, hugging him the same way he did this morning. “I never thought I’d see you again,” Jack mumbled, pulling away quickly as if remembering Cas’ warning about personal space. “You were worried about us? That’s so nice.”

Dean felt his face heating up as he stepped away from Jack, glancing between him and Cas as he realized he didn’t know what to say next. “Yeah, it’s dangerous and I didn’t feel like you guys had enough protection,” Dean admitted, licking his lips nervously. He realized that sounded harsh, like he thought he was the only one who could protect them. It wasn't like that. He couldn't exactly tell them that he felt oddly responsible for them after only knowing them for two days. That would have been worse. “I know you can probably take care of yourselves, but I couldn’t sleep-” he tried to explain. 

“We’re fine, Dean,” Cas cut him off, his voice calm and steady. It reminded Dean that Cas didn't need him, that he was intruding on them when they were just trying to get back to living their life. Dean felt guilty, but he couldn't stop himself from caring, even if he didn't know why. “You’ve already done so much for us. You really didn’t have to come check on us. I’m sure it took you hours to get here, and now you have to drive back.”

“About that,” Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair. Why was he so nervous to ask them to come back? He hesitated, watching Cas’ questioning face as he tried to just come out and ask. “Look, I don’t trust people, but you’re different. . . I think. I want you guys to come back to the bunker. At least you’ll be safe there. You could leave whenever you wanted, but I can protect you.” He was doing it again, assuming they needed his protection or something. Cas was an adult and he'd been on Earth for years now. He had survived this long without Dean, so why would he need him now?

“Yes, we’d love to,” Jack said without hesitation, earning him a glare from Cas. He shrugged, clearly not understanding the situation. Dean licked his lips nervously, glancing at Jack for only a second before looking at Cas again, waiting patiently for him to answer. 

“We’d just be burdening you,” Cas argued, ignoring Jack’s answer. “That’s more mouths to feed. You only have one guest room, so we’d be taking up you and Sam’s space. I appreciate the offer, Dean, really, but I know you’re just pitying us. We’ll be okay.” It wasn't about pity. Dean never pitied them at all. He knew Castiel could easily take care of himself. He was an angel after all, so how could he not? That wasn't the point. Dean liked having him around. Him and Jack both. Sam did too. But how could he come out and tell them that after only two days? 

Dean swallowed hard, trying not to let that accusation hurt him. “No, Cas, you’re not a burden. You can help us find supplies and the sleeping arrangements are nothing. That’s the least of my concern. Please come back with me?” He wasn’t sure why he was trying so damn hard. He didn’t get rejected much, so he guessed that was why he kept trying. “Besides, we’ll probably move on from the bunker soon. It would be nice to have someone to talk to who isn’t my little brother. We can find a place with more supplies, more light, and I don’t know, some place we can all fit.”

Cas looked like he wanted to accept Dean’s offer, but Dean could tell he wasn’t going to. He really thought he was intruding in Dean’s life, making it harder on him. “That sounds great, Dean, but I just-” he started, but a sound from outside put Dean on high alert, sending him across the room to shove a hand over Cas’ mouth, cutting him off abruptly. He held a finger to his lips before lowering his hand to his hip, finding his gun, right next to his machete. Whatever was out there, it couldn’t be good. It had been years since he'd been on a hunt, but killing zombies for years made him a pretty good shot. 

“Get behind me,” he whispered, gently shoving Cas towards Jack as he stood his ground in front of them, facing the front door. The footsteps outside were heavy and getting closer. Dean hadn’t fought anything but the undead in ten years, but he knew he still had it in him. He held his gun steady, pointed at the door to shoot whatever tried to open it. “Come on, you son of a bitch,” Dean grumbled to himself, getting impatient. Finally, the door shook as someone twisted the doorknob, shoving against the locked door. Dean put his finger on the trigger, waiting. The door flew off the hinges, revealing the monster. Dean saw the fangs right away and knew he had chosen the wrong weapon. “Damn it!” he yelled, as the vamp sent him flying across the room, right into the drywall. “Cas, take the kid and run!” he screamed, ignoring the pain in his back from the hard impact.

Just as Dean grabbed his machete, he heard more coming in through the back, blocking them in so Cas couldn’t leave. “Not so fast,” the one in front of Dean chuckled coldly. “We’re starving.”

Dean grunted as he pushed himself back up on his feet, machete in hand. “Eat this, you asshole,” he snarled, lunging at the vamp with all his strength. He knew there were more, but he was only one person. He had to trust that Cas could hold them off until he could kill the others. He grabbed the front of the vamp’s shirt, swinging the weapon at his head. The vamp dodged it, instead throwing Dean into the wall again, knocking the wind out of him. Dean managed to stay on his feet, kicking the Vamp into the coffee table next to the couch. It landed on it’s back, the perfect position for Dean to kneel on his chest to hold him down and chop it’s head off in one swift motion. With one dead, he turned to face the others. He saw Cas fighting them off with nothing but his hands while Jack struggled to hold another one off his own neck. 

“Jack, watch out!” Dean warned, going in for the kill while the thing was distracted. Dean felt the impact, the way the knife planted itself into the skin with a sickening sound. The vamp’s head flew into the wall, spraying blood all over Jack’s face as he tried to turn away. Dean shoved the headless body away from the kid and helped him up quickly, Cas still struggling with the third one. He grabbed the last vamp by the back of it's shirt, slamming it into the wall before taking it’s head off with a quick, strong motion. The machete stuck in the wall as the head and body fell separately to the floor, rolling across Dean’s feet. He breathed out an exhausted sigh, yanking his weapon out of the wall and shoving it back into his jacket. “Stupid vampires,” he grumbled, kicking the head to the side as he turned back to Cas and Jack. “Did anyone get bit?” he worried. 

They both shook their head no, Cas with that same stern look on his face, but Jack looked traumatized. “Just a few gashes from fighting, but no bites,” Cas said, wincing as he touched an open wound on his forehead. 

“Come here,” Dean instructed, softly. He pulled Cas closer by the front of his shirt, gently reaching up to inspect the source of the bleeding. “This’ll need stitches,” he determined, finally. “It’s a couple hours back to the bunker, but I have stuff in the car to clean you up until we get back. Everyone out to the car.” He let go of his grip on Cas, pointing them out the door. Jack grabbed the bag Dean had given them before they left this morning and followed Cas outside towards the impala. 

As Cas took the front seat, Dean rummaged through his stuff in the back until he found a clean gauze from one of the few first aid kits they had. He grabbed it and some of the pain medicine before walking around to where Cas sat with the door open, breathing in the fresh air. “Thank you, Dean,” he mumbled, his eyes staring at the ground. “You saved Jack. If anything would have happened to him. . .” he trailed off, shaking his head. 

Dean grabbed Cas’ chin to tilt his head up, dabbing a wet towel on the wound to clean it. “Yeah, well, he’s okay,” Dean said, avoiding Cas’ eyes as he was in his  
personal space. “And so are you.” He finished cleaning the wound before taping the gauze to Cas’ head, making sure it was secure before stepping away. “So you’re staying with me, right?” he wondered, finally meeting Cas’ eyes. He put the pain pill into the man’s hand, their fingers brushing. Dean quickly pulled away, still waiting for an answer.

“Okay,” Cas agreed, a hint of a smile on those lips that hardly ever did anything but frown. “I’ll stay with you.”


	3. Chapter Three

When they finally made it back to the bunker, the moon was still high in the sky without a hint of sunrise, meaning it wasn’t as late as Dean had thought it would be when they returned. Maybe it only felt like hours looking for them, when really it hadn’t been that long. Dean’s concept of time wasn’t great when he was worried.

He left most of his things in the car after locking up the garage because he was too tired to pack it back inside and put it all away. He led Cas and Jack into the bunker, using his last working solar powered flashlight to light the path inside. No one said anything as they walked, but it was probably because they figured Sam was sleeping. Dean was supposed to tell him when he found Cas and Jack, but he didn’t want to wake him, especially because he’d ask what happened. He didn’t want Sam worrying about the vampire attack, especially since they were all fine.

“Jack, you can have the same room,” Dean told him, after checking for injuries in the middle of their dining room, shining the flashlight in his eyes as he squinted and looked away. Luckily, the kid escaped unscathed. “Go ahead and get some rest, kid.” Jack nodded, his eyes heavy with sleep as he shuffled his feet down the dark hallway towards the guest room. Dean sat the flashlight on the table, pulling out a chair for Cas to sit down. “Let me fix your head and then we’ll go to bed too,” he said, guiding Cas towards the chair to sit down. He sat across from him, digging through the makeshift first aid kit so he could put stitches in Cas’ head.

“Have you done this before?” Cas wondered, his hands braced on his knees as Dean glanced at him. The worried look on his face was understandable considering a stranger was about to have a needle right next to his eyeball, but it had to be done.

“Plenty of times,” Dean assured him. “Sam’s accident prone, so I’ve stitched him up more than once. Just trust me.” He carefully took the bandages off Cas’ head and cleaned the fresh blood from the wound with an alcohol soaked towel. Cas winced, his face contorted in pain. “Hey, you’ve got to keep your face relaxed while I have the needle near your brain,” Dean teased, but he was completely serious. Cas didn’t think it was funny and the frown on his lips stayed firmly in place. Dean cleared his throat, prepping the needle by cleaning it as best he could with what little he had. “I’d let you squeeze my hand, but I need both of them,” he sighed. Not to mention, holding his hand would only make Dean more nervous, for whatever reason.

“It’s okay,” Cas breathed, clearly afraid Dean was going to hurt him. “Why would I have to hold your hand?” he asked, completely straight faced. Dean would have taken that question as a sarcastic remark had it come from anyone else, but from Cas, it was an actual question.

Dean licked his lips carefully, resting his hand on the table, twirling the needle between his fingers as he hesitated. “Well. . . sometimes, when you’re hurt, physical contact makes it hurt less. If you have something to hold onto, something to squeeze, it might take your mind off the pain somewhere else in your body. Does that make sense?” he tried, hoping he explained it well enough. Cas cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowed in confusion, trying to understand Dean’s words on his own. Dean sighed, a small laugh in the exhale. “It lets you take control of the situation, I guess. Grounds you, or something. My mom used to hold my hand when I scraped my knees as a kid. It always helped.”

“I see,” Cas mumbled, his face relaxing. “What if you squeeze too hard and hurt the other person? Then both of you are hurt,” Cas reasoned, making Dean chuckle. Of course, he’d be concerned about something like that. Dean shook his head, deciding not to answer that. Instead, he figured he would show Cas what he meant, just a little differently considering he couldn’t hold his hand.

Dean bit his bottom lip, hesitating with the needle between his fingers. Uncertain, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around Cas’ wrist, pulling his hand over to his knee. “You won’t hurt me,” Dean promised, sliding his hand away from Cas’, instead moving it to rest on Cas’ head to stabilize it from moving. He felt Cas’ fingers digging into his knee as the needle pierced his skin, but he kept his hand steady. It was hard to work with little light, but eventually the wound was closed. “There, all better,” Dean announced, sticking a new bandage over the stitches. He felt Cas’ fingers relax, not moving away from his leg.

“That’s it?” Cas asked, his voice wavering as if he didn’t believe him.

Dean chuckled, standing up to clean everything up, forcing Cas’ hand to slip away from his knee. “Yeah, that’s it,” Dean replied, deciding to leave everything on the table in favor of getting to bed quicker. He turned out the flashlight to conserve the light and felt through the darkness for Cas’ sleeve, pulling him up out of the chair. “Come on, let’s get some sleep.” He started down the dark hallway, leading the way because he knew it like the back of his hand, even without a hint of light. He felt Cas’ fingers twist into his sleeve, holding on the entire way.

“Dean, where will you sleep?” Cas asked, his voice quiet as they passed by Sam’s room. “I can sleep on the floor in Jack’s room,” he offered, when Dean didn’t reply quick enough.

“You might have a concussion,” Dean explained, finding his door and pushing it open, letting go of Cas’ sleeve as they entered the room and closed the door behind them. “I’ll sleep on the floor and keep an eye on you. That’s what I do for Sam when he’s sick or hurt. That way if anything happens, I’ll be here to help.” He knew he probably didn’t need to baby Cas, just like Sam usually didn’t need to be babied. He couldn’t help himself. He’d been taking care of Sammy since their mom died, so it was just something he did without thinking. Whether it was Sam, or someone else he cared about, he had to make sure everyone was safe. Sometimes, even as his own expense.

“Oh,” Cas replied softly. Dean laid an extra blanket out on the floor for himself and took a pillow off the bed, all while Cas stood there in the middle of the room silently. Finally, Dean lit a candle on the desk to give him some light. When Dean turned, he saw the outline of Cas still standing there, closer than he thought. Dean wished he could look into those blue eyes, but then he was grateful he couldn’t because he didn’t need to be staring at this guy and creeping him out. “Dean, I think we left the bag you gave me in the car, so the clothes. . .” he trailed off, shifting away from the bed, towards the door, as if he were going to get the clothes from the garage.

“I have more clothes,” Dean chuckled, digging through his drawers to find something for Cas to wear. This time, after he handed them over, he turned away to let Cas dress, since last time he didn’t have enough decency to look away. Besides, he needed to change his clothes too and he didn’t want Cas watching him either. He quickly put on a pair of sweatpants and tossed his t-shirt into his pile of dirty clothes. Usually, he’d wear the same clothes for a few days, but this one was covered in vampire blood.

“This feels much better. Thank you,” Cas said, as they turned around at the same time. Cas’ eyes lingered on Dean’s chest for a moment, but then he looked away quickly. “Are you sure you don’t want me to sleep on the floor?” he asked, lingering on the edge of the bed.

Dean was already on the floor, pulling the blanket up to his shoulders. “I’m sure,” he grumbled. “Now sleep. I’m sure it’s almost sunrise by now.” The only answer was Cas’ head hitting the pillow and a small sigh from the angel as they drifted to sleep listening to each other’s breaths.

When Dean woke, he felt like he’d been asleep forever. He wasn’t sure how long it had really been, but at least he felt refreshed, which didn’t happen often. Dean stretched his arms over his head, feeling the repercussions of fighting those vamps yesterday. For a moment, he sat there, just breathing and allowing himself a moment to fully wake up. After so long, he pushed himself up off the floor, threw a shirt over his head, and lit the candle from last night. He grabbed the candle and walked closer to the bed, carefully sitting the candle on the bedside table. Cas was still asleep, adorably so, with his head nearly hanging off the edge of the bed. The angel had one arm under the pillow, the other next to his head. The blanket was only covering his legs and his shirt had ridden up to expose his belly. Dean swallowed hard, raking his eyes over Cas’ body for only a moment. He knew he couldn’t be thinking about him like that, but in the moment, he couldn’t stop it.

“Dean?” Cas mumbled, his eyes fluttering open. Dean froze, still sitting next to him, his hand on the mattress only a few inches away from Cas’ exposed skin. “Are you checking to make sure I’m breathing?” Cas teased, making Dean blush, knowing he’d been caught. He quickly averted his gaze to the mattress, only for a second, before he was looking at Cas’ hand, those long fingers, the way they twisted the fabric of the sheets as Cas stretched.

“You got hit pretty hard last night,” Dean defended himself, finally meeting Cas’ eyes before he did something stupid, like grab Cas’ hand, or worse. “I was just worried about you, that’s all.” That was the reason at first, until Dean noticed how beautiful he looked asleep in Dean’s bed, but he would never admit that out loud to anyone. To cover himself, he cleared his throat and got up from the bed, stepping a good distance away.

Cas smiled, slowly sitting up to stretch some more. Dean watched Cas’ shirt ride up even farther as the heat crept up his own neck, reminding him of all those suppressed feelings from when he was a teenager. He hadn’t thought about anyone really since then, so he couldn’t be blamed that the first attractive man he met was making him feel things he wasn’t supposed to feel.

“I appreciate your concern,” Cas said, snapping Dean back to reality. “Thanks to you, I’m okay.” He had rested his arms back in his lap, the blanket pooled around his hips, his skin now covered by the shirt Dean lent him.

“Good,” Dean replied, shifting uncomfortably. “Come get something to eat,” he encouraged, nodding his head towards the door. “Sam’s probably up already.” He didn’t wait for Cas to follow, since he knew where the dining room was at this point. He found Sam setting the table, the candles burning for light. Jack sat patiently, talking Sam’s ear off while Sam put food in front of him. “You cooked?” Dean asked, surprised. Sam hardly ever made their meals, mostly because Dean never asked him too.

Sam looked up, finally noticing Dean standing in the doorway. “Oh, goodmorning,” he greeted, a faint smile lighting up his face. “Yeah, I checked in on you and Cas and saw you were both still out cold. I heard you get in late, so I let you sleep.” He pulled out a chair next to Jack and sat down, digging into his food. “It’s nothing special, but it’s food,” he added with a slight shrug.

“Thanks, Sammy,” Dean mumbled, feeling Cas brush past him to get to the table. Dean licked his lips, taking in the unfamiliar scene in front of him. Usually, it was just him and Sam quietly eating meals together. Now, there were four of them. It was too early to trust anyone fully, but Dean was starting to feel like things would be okay again. It wasn’t the same as a real family, his mom and dad sitting at the table with a home cooked meal as Sam babbled on about whatever he was learning that week. Dean dreamed about those nights often, as if it hadn’t been over twenty years since his mom died, and at least ten since they lost their dad. This wasn’t like that, but it was something. Cas and Jack weren’t replacements, but they still filled part of the hole in Dean’s chest. Enough to make him breathe a little easier than normal.

Dean had completely zoned out, absentmindedly eating his food as the others talked around him. He only snapped back to the conversation when he realized Jack was talking about him. “-and then Dean swung this knife and the monster’s head flew off! And he killed three of them that way, and then he fixed Castiel’s head when it was bleeding.” The praise was sweet, really, but Dean didn’t feel like he deserved it. He didn’t kill those vampires to be considered a hero, but in Jack’s eyes, that was what he was. Cas looked amused by Jack’s story, though, so Dean let him continue. “I want to learn how to fight like Dean and Castiel,” he was saying as Sam and Cas watched him with soft smiles.

“Sounds like my brother is a real hero,” Sam chuckled after Jack finished rambling, glancing across the table at Dean. “I’m really glad he brought you guys back here. I was getting kind of tired of his company,” he teased. Company was one way to put it. For ten years, they only had each other. There was only so much they could do, or talk about. They played the same card games over and over, made up games and crosswords, talked about what they would do if the world ever went back to normal, told stories, read books, whatever they could do to pass the time.

“Hey, I’m great company,” Dean grumbled, though he was also glad he had someone else to talk to besides his brother. New voices, new stories, and now they could finally go outside, so there were new things to try. Speaking of, Dean really needed to talk to Sam about finding a new space for the four of them. “Listen, I’ve got something serious to talk about,” he said, changing the subject of his heroism, because frankly, it made him pretty uncomfortable.

Everyone at the table seemed to settle into an awkward silence, Jack and Cas sharing a glance as Sam raised an eyebrow. “Should we give you two a minute to talk?” Cas wondered, moving to get up from the table. Dean held out a hand, stopping him, gesturing for him to sit back down. “We don’t mind eating in the other room,” Cas offered, slowly dragging his chair back to the table.

Dean shook his head, poking his fork around his food as he tried to figure out how he wanted to bring this up. “This involves all four of us,” he explained, which really made Sam curious, his eyes widening slightly as he stared at Dean impatiently. Dean sighed, deciding to just get it over with. Either Sam would agree, or he would shoot it down and they would just stay in the bunker. “I was thinking we could leave the bunker. Things outside have settled down, the supplies around here are running dry, and we could use a place with more space, more light, and I don’t know, maybe more people.”

“Leave?” Sam responded, quickly. Dean couldn’t tell if he liked the idea or not. There wasn’t enough light to interpret the look on his brother’s face, so he gave Sam another minute of silence to see if he had anything else to say. “I don’t know, Dean, we’re safe down here. I mean, hell, you just took down a nest. That’s evidence enough for us to stay here, right?”

Dean really couldn’t believe his ears. He’d understand wanting to stay because it had been their home for ten years, but to say they should stay to keep away from monsters? That was ridiculous. “The apocalypse made you soft, Sam,” Dean answered, shaking his head in disbelief. “We used to hunt monsters for a living. We saved people. A lot of people. Don’t you think there are survivors out there who could benefit from our hunting skills?” It wasn’t exactly his plan to go off hunting down all the monsters, but it was something to kill time. Something to save people, save the world from going extinct or something drastic.

“You want to find other survivors?” Cas asked, confused. “You mentioned you don’t trust other people easily. Me being the exception, I assume. Why would you want to purposely find others?” He spoke with such a serious tone, sometimes Dean could only stare at him strangely, wondering what freaking planet this guy was from. He had to remind himself Cas just only became human, that this dude was literally an angel from heaven.

Dean felt his face heat up in embarrassment at Cas’ words, knowing they were the truth despite him not wanting to admit it. He did trust Cas and for what reason? He couldn’t figure it out yet. At first, he thought it was because Cas was the first person he met after the undead were gone. Then maybe, just maybe it was because he was travelling with a kid, so how could he be evil? But what he would never admit, because it would sound so ridiculous, was that he trusted Cas because of the look in his blue eyes. He couldn’t explain it, but that was it.

“I mean, maybe,” Dean replied. “Maybe I want to find other survivors, or maybe I just want to get out of this dark, depressing bunker. The apocalypse is over and I think we need to start rebuilding things. I want to have a home again. We can handle a few monsters, right?” There, talk about monsters. Stop thinking about Cas’ eyes. Think about killing monsters instead. That’s all he had to do.

The silence was deafening. Dean thought he had made a mistake by bringing this up. Maybe he was the crazy one. Maybe they should just stay in the bunker where it was safe. But they were going to run out of food soon and they were down to their last few sources of light. “Maybe we can talk about this later,” Dean mumbled, feeling stupid now that no one was agreeing with him.

“I think it’s a great idea, Dean,” Jack chirped from across the table, a supportive smile on his lips. Dean chuckled, but Jack’s support alone wasn’t enough. He needed Cas and Sam on board too.

“I also think it’s a good idea,” Cas agreed, leaving everyone to stare at Sam as they waited to see what he would say.

Sam sighed, a sign that he was giving in and that meant Dean won. Dean usually got his way, but this time, it was different. He wanted Sam to actually agree with him. “Okay, you’re right,” Sam conceded, folding his arms on the table in front of him. “I am tired of living in the dark all the time. Maybe a change of scenery will be good for us.”

“Great, then it’s settled,” Dean announced, glancing around the table to make sure everyone was in agreement. No one had any objections. Dean took that as a win. “We’ll pack up everything tomorrow and-”

“Actually,” Sam cut him off, shrugging his shoulders casually. “Why don’t we pack up the car after we eat and head out today? That way we can find somewhere to stay before dark.” Dean was surprised by Sam’s enthusiasm, especially after he opposed the plan just a few minutes before. “Don’t look at me like that, Dean. Like you said, we need to get out of this dark, depressing bunker. Let’s just hit the road as soon as we can.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Dean agreed after a few more seconds of gaping at his brother, confused. He wasn’t against leaving now by any means, so he wasn’t going to push any more. “Cas?” he said, looking to the angel to get his input. Jack would follow any plan Dean had at this point, so he didn’t have to ask the kid.

Cas nodded, his eyes staring back into Dean’s in a way that made him shift uncomfortably in his chair, even in so little light. “Yes, Dean. That works for us.”

Dean cleared his throat, giving a small nod of acknowledgement. “Great,” he said, and then let the conversation revert back to small talk as they finished eating.

After the meal, they started packing everything into bags. Blankets, pillows, food, guns, salt, and anything else they could fit into the trunk of the Impala. “That’s everything,” Dean announced, slamming the trunk closed as Sam opened the garage door, flooding them with light. “Everyone in. We’ve got a long drive.”


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any typos/mistakes, I don't have anyone to read over this for me. I'm just doing my best! I love getting feedback, so if you like it (or don't like it for any reason) let me know :) Thanks for reading!

"Dean, does your car have a cassette player?" Jack wondered from the backseat, his hands folded in his lap as he watched the world through the window, sometimes glancing at the others in the car. Clearly, the kid had never been in a moving vehicle before. He was quiet for the most part, but every now and then, he would mumble to himself, or ask Castiel some simple question about something he had seen through the window. Dean enjoyed looking up and seeing the wonder in the kid's eyes. It reminded him of his own childhood, before he was forced to grow up too soon after his mom's death. Jack's boyish wonder was like a breath of fresh air. 

Dean glanced at the radio for a moment, then looked at Jack in the rearview mirror. "Yeah, but we've only got one tape," he answered, digging through the glove box while Sam slept peacefully in the passenger seat. Cas was asleep too, his head leaned against the window in the seat next to Jack. "Looks like some AC/DC," he read, squinting at the writing that was fading on the tape. There used to be so many tapes in various places throughout the car because John had an arsenal of different music. Dean grew up listening to all kinds of bands and music genres. He loved nothing more than a little classic rock, which he was happy to subject Jack to. The kid could use some good music in his life. Dean briefly wondered if the kid had even listened to music before, considering he had been born in the midst of an apocalypse. For a second, Dean had an image of Castiel teaching Jack the words to some obscure pop song and the two of them jamming out, which made him chuckle. 

"Maybe we could find more tapes," Jack replied, his face lit up with excitement. Dean had to remind himself that this kid wasn't really a teenager and a lot of this stuff, he really hadn't seen before. "I've never heard of AC/DC," he added. "Can we listen?"

Dean chuckled, checking the tape to make sure it still looked playable. "Sure, if this damn thing still works," he agreed, pushing the tape into the cassette player. He really wasn't sure it would work after years of gathering dust in the glove box, but surprisingly, the sounds of AC/DC soon started playing throughout the car. The smile that lit up Jack's face was contagious. "You like it?" Dean asked over the music. 

"It's great!" Jack beamed, nodding his head in time with the song. Dean smiled, satisfied as he continued driving down the long stretch of highway, his fingers tapping the steering wheel as the songs played. He watched Jack every few seconds, his heart swelling as the kid slowly learned the words to the choruses in each song and began to sing along. 

For a few hours, they continued driving, replaying the same few songs on the only tape they had. Sam and Cas slept through it all, but Dean didn't mind bonding with the kid for a while. He loved introducing Jack to the wonders of classic rock, especially since Jack seemed to like it. He even enjoyed answering every little question about the band members, other rock bands in the same era, and whatever else the kid could conjure up within the few hours they spent talking. Eventually, they had to stop because they were almost out of gas. In the middle of a small town, Dean parked the Impala in front of a beat up grocery store. The building was still perfectly intact, but it looked rundown. The windows were cracked, but not shattered. There seemed to be a lot of stuff on the shelves inside, but that was just from what Dean could see from outside. He wanted to check it out to see if anything was important enough to squeeze into the car with the rest of their belongings, so he slowly reached over and thumped Sam on the forehead to wake him up. 

Sam's eyes shot open, startled as he thrashed around before calming himself, his eyes traveling around their new surroundings. "Where are we?" Sam mumbled sleepily, stretching as he glanced at Dean in question. Cas was also starting to wake up, his eyes blinking slowly as Dean failed to stop himself from looking at him in the mirror. His hair was sticking up on the side from where he had been laying on it and he was too out of it to fix it. Dean thought it was adorable looking, so he didn't mention it either. Instead, he tore his eyes away, back to looking at Sammy, the safest place for his eyes to stay fixed on. 

"We have to siphon some gas," Dean explained, eyeing the store carefully. He doubted anyone was in there, but he needed to be safe. "Sam and I are going to check out this store and see if there's anything we need. We're running low on salt and ammo for the guns. Then, I'll fill up the car, and we'll get back on the road." They could have stayed here in this town. They had passed some nice looking houses about twenty minutes back, but they still had plenty of daylight to keep moving. Dean wanted to get even farther from the bunker than they were right now. 

"Do you want us to stay here?" Cas asked, his voice still groggy from being asleep. Dean wanted to lock eyes with him as soon as his voice touched Dean's eyes, but he ignored that urge. 

Dean reached back into the glove department, finding the small gun he kept stashed there. He sat it on the seat next to Cas, looking him in the eyes. "Lock the doors and stay alert. If you see anything that doesn't look human, shoot it. We'll be back soon." He felt a little uneasy, leaving Cas and the kid to fend for themselves, but he wouldn't be too far away. If he looked outside the store, he would have been able to see the impala, which made him feel slightly better about it. 

"We got it," Jack answered, confidently.

Dean rolled his eyes, but decided to leave without a comeback. He locked the doors behind him as Sam got out to follow him into the store. He had his gun and his knife both on him, and Sam carried his gun too. If they ran into anything, they'd be fine. Still, he wanted to get out quick.

As they entered the store, Sam split off in one direction, and Dean went the opposite way. It was a relatively small building, so Dean could hear Sam's footsteps across the store. For a few minutes, they searched in silence. Dean ran his fingers over various food products, nothing really necessary since the trunk was basically stocked full. He saw a couple of stuffed animals which he considered grabbing for Jack, but then he thought that would be way too weird. He continued eyeing the shelves, shaking his head as he found literally nothing, until he and Sam met up in the back of the store, empty handed. 

"Anything?" Sam asked, defeated.

Dean shook his head, holding his hands up to show he had nothing. "I haven't checked the middle aisles, but it looks like this place was wiped out of anything useful. We'll have to keep looking for other places while we still have daylight."

Sam sighed, his eyes raking down the last few aisles. "Let's check them together," he suggested, leading the way down an aisle for baking supplies. They checked both sides in silence for a moment, until Sam cleared his throat, like he had something to say. Dean glanced at him, raising an eyebrow in question. Sam awkwardly looked away, pointlessly moving things around on the shelf. Dean waited, impatiently eyeing his little brother, who clearly had something to say. The way he was hesitating, it was something Dean wasn't going to like. At least, that was how he normally acted when that was the subject. "I noticed you and Cas are getting along really well," he said eventually, avoiding Dean's eyes. 

"Yeah, and?" Dean barked, defensively. He spotted a row of salt and grabbed as many as he could hold, trying to keep up his walls around Sam by just acting normal. He thought he had been careful about how he acted around Cas, especially around Sam and Jack. He thought it wasn't obvious that something was going on, not with him and Cas, just with him in general. Stupid stuff in his head that he couldn't shake just yet. He needed more time to figure it out and now Sam bringing it up was complicating things even more. "I've known the guy for two days. You get along with him too, don't you?" he added, hoping he didn't sound like he was trying to hide something. 

Sam grabbed what Dean couldn't hold, cleaning out the shelf completely. "Yeah, he's a nice guy. Jack too," Sam agreed, continuing down the aisle looking for anything useful. Dean thought he was just making a show out of it to avoid looking at him, which he didn't mind. He didn't want Sam's judgmental eyes on him. "I'm just saying, Dean. Dad's not around to control you anymore. He can't tell you what to do, how to live your life. . . you know what I mean?"

Dean dropped the salt in a plastic bag near the front of the store, avoiding having to look at his brother who was basically telling him it was okay to feel things he hadn't been allowed to feel his entire life. It wasn't that easy. It was ingrained in every part of him. That part of him, those kinds of feelings, they were something Dean's father forced down and it would take a lot more than two days with a nice guy to resurface them. It would be impossible to figure it all out anytime soon, if ever. 

"Just let it go, man," Dean grumbled, letting Sam drop his things into the bag as well before Sam took it from him. Dean glared, but didn't say anything. "We're not talking about dad. He's got nothing to do with it." Except he had everything to do with it, but Dean could never tell Sam that. He didn't want Sam to think less of their dead father. What was the point in that?

"You say that, but I know how dad was," Sam argued. Dean ignored him, walking past the door to the section of the store they hadn't been through because they didn't need any clothes. He saw something that caught his eye and he wanted to get away from Sam and this conversation, so he walked off without saying a word. "Dean, don't walk away from me!" Sam called after him.

"I'm done talking about it," Dean replied, searching through the shirts until he found one that didn't look as worn out as the others. He took it off the hanger, folding it up to tuck under his arm. He wasn't sure why he grabbed it, if not to just get Sam off his ass. That wasn't the only reason, but he was too embarrassed to admit the real reason he wanted that shirt. "Let's go. We need to keep moving before it gets dark."

"What's that?" Sam asked, following close on Dean's heels as they exited the store. At least he was done talking about their dad, but now he was onto something else that was bound to make Dean's face red if he talked about it. 

Dean rolled his eyes, shoving Sam's shoulder to get him out of his face. "Quit being so nosy and get the tube to fill up the gas tank," he snapped, stuffing the shirt into the pocket inside his jacket, away from Sam's lingering eyes. 

Sam sighed, defeated, and opened the trunk of the Car as Dean checked in on Cas and Jack. After confirming with them that everything outside had been normal, he joined Sam at the gas tank of a nearby car so he could siphon the gas out of it. Dean had done it plenty of times, both before and during the apocalypse. John had taught him the skill at a young age, since hunting didn't exactly pay the bills. 

"I'm driving," Sam said suddenly, holding his hand out for the keys. 

Dean laughed, swinging the keys in front of Sam's face. "Oh you mean these keys? You're hilarious, dude," he snorted, shoving them back in his pocket. There was no way he'd let Sam drive Baby unless he was unconscious or dead. Not that he didn't trust his little brother, but he wanted all the time he could get with his precious car. Since he didn't get much drive time while the lifeless zombies were roaming around, he was relishing in the feel of that steering wheel in his hands now. 

"Seriously, Dean?" he huffed, his arms crossed as Dean pried open the gas tank of the car they were draining. He ignored his little brother, feeding the tube into the tank as far as it would go. "You've been driving all day. You hardly got any sleep last night. Let me drive for a few hours. You have to be exhausted." He didn't seem like he was in a mood to let things go easily. Living with Sam for the past ten years, Dean grew to understand his moods more each day. Sometimes, he argued, but Dean got him to give up with little resistance. Other times, Sam didn't let up for anything. Today, he wasn't letting up. Dean could hear it in his voice.

Dean stood, holding the tube between his fingers as he sighed, hesitating. He was tired, but he was used to running on little sleep. Maybe, this once, he could allow Sam to drive, but he wasn't going to be happy about it. "Fine," he grumbled, handing the keys over. "But you're filling up the gas tank," he added, holding out the tube for Sam to take. 

Sam made a disgusted face, taking it anyways. "Fine," he answered, stubbornly. Dean stood back and watched, making sure Sam did it right since he didn't do it as often as Dean. John always made Dean do the dirty work when they were kids, but Dean never complained so he could save Sam from getting hurt. It was one reason Dean was so protective over his brother to this day, but neither of them brought it up. Talking about the past was something that always started a fight, so Sam knew to avoid it at all costs. Dean hated bringing up anything about the past, anything about dad in general. Rarely, they talked about mom, but that was different. 

After Sam had successfully filled the gas can up without swallowing a mouthful of gasoline, they replenished the gas in the Impala and shut everything back in the trunk, along with their new stock of salt. With everything ready to go, Sam got behind the wheel, starting the car back up. Dean started to get into the passenger seat, but he only got the door open before Jack lurched forward, nearly jumping over the back seat.

"Oh, are we switching seats? Dean, can I please sit in the front? I've never sat in the front of a car before. Please?" he begged, his eyes scarily similar to the same puppy dog look Sam gave him to get his way. Those two had been spending too much time together and it'd only been two days. It could only get worse. Dean wouldn't know what to do with two Sam Winchesters running around, giving him that look, talking about lore 24/7, and always judging Dean for eating so fast at meals. He could just imagine the things Sam planned on teaching the kid. It was a terrifying thought. 

Dean sighed heavily, hanging his head in defeat. He couldn't tell the kid no with a face like that. "Yeah, alright," Dean remarked, gesturing for Jack to walk around the car instead of crawling over the seat. Jack excitedly took the front seat as Dean slid into the back next to Cas, who was being unusually quiet. "You alright, Cas?" he whispered, nudging the angel's arm with his elbow.

Cas looked at him, a smile replacing his usually unchanging calm expression. "Yes, just happy you and Sam are here," he replied, making Dean's heart swell.

As Sam started driving again, he and Jack jumped easily into conversation, Sam answering all of Jack's questions just as Dean had done for hours previously. "Here," Dean said as he tuned them out, digging the shirt out of his jacket as Cas watched him curiously. He suddenly felt even more embarrassed than when he picked up the shirt in the store, but he pushed down the nervous feeling in his stomach and clenched the t-shirt in his hand, meeting Cas' eyes slowly. "I saw this in the store and I thought you might want it," he explained, awkwardly handing it over to the angel. Cas took it, staring at the soft fabric in his hands. "So you don't have to keep wearing mine. I'm sure you're tired of my old shirts." He really had no idea why he thought of Castiel when saw the stupid thing, but he did, and he grabbed it without a second thought. 

"No, I'm not," Cas answered genuinely. "I like them." He unfolded the shirt, looking at it carefully as Dean watched him, trying to hide his smile at Cas' words. He actually liked wearing Dean's clothes, and that was such a small, unimportant revelation, but it made Dean happy. It made him incredibly happy, actually, and suddenly he wished he hadn't even grabbed the new shirt. "But I will wear this one too, because you got it for me," he added with a small smile, as if he had been reading Dean's mind. "Who's on the shirt?" he wondered, looking at Dean again, this time in confusion.

Dean laughed, scooting closer to examine the shirt more closely now that they were out of the dark store. "It's Scooby Doo," Dean explained, their shoulders pressed together as Cas cocked his head to the side, looking at the cartoon on the front of the shirt. "You know, the cartoon where a bunch of teenagers and their talking dog solve crimes? They always think it's a ghost or a monster, but it always turns out to just be some asshole in a mask," he continued, rambling on like a child. It was one of his favorite shows as a kid after all. It was what he watched in the crappy motels rooms while John went on hunts. It was the show Dean turned on to keep Sam occupied while he worked on his own homework for school. It was Dean's whole childhood, so he stupidly assumed everyone knew what it was. Even the angel who probably never had cable tv. Cas continued to look confused, so Dean gave up. "If we ever get television working again, I'll show you," he promised. The thought of sitting Cas down and forcing him to watch a children's show was amusing to Dean, even though he knew it would never happy. It was a nice thought, at least. 

"It's a date," Cas answered, teasingly. He glanced up from admiring the shirt, folding it up in his lap as he looked at Dean. "We didn't have tv in Heaven," he said with a small shrug. Dean assumed as much, but it still made him chuckle. 

"Heaven sounds boring," Dean answered, covering up a yawn as he shifted further down in his seat, getting comfortable. "Not that earth is much better," he added, realizing he had spent the last ten years in a dark bunker doing nothing but reading and talking to his little brother. He couldn't imagine what Cas had been up to this whole time, having been thrown to Earth out of no where. He probably had to learn how to live on this dump of a planet with no guidance from anyone, and that must have sucked. 

"Earth has humans like you," Cas responded, looking straight ahead as Dean glanced at the angel curiously. "And like Sam," he added, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's much better than I thought it would be." 

Dean hummed, his eyes heavy as the sounds of AC/DC played through the speakers. "You have low expectations," Dean teased, closing his eyes. Cas made a sound that resembled a laugh, but Dean wasn't sure. He hadn't heard the angel really laugh yet. The noise made him smile as he slowly drifted off, unable to keep his eyes open any more.

When Dean woke up, he felt like it had been hours. He slowly opened his eyes, his head resting against something solid, but warm. Quickly, he realized it was Cas' shoulder and he sat up immediately, blinking as the setting sun flooded his eyes. It was almost night, so he has to have been asleep for awhile. He wasn't sure how long he'd been using Cas as a pillow, but he felt incredibly embarrassed, though incredibly well rested too. "Uh, sorry," he mumbled, staring at his lap. It didn't dawn on him until Cas gradually scooted back against the other side of the car that they weren't sitting that close the whole time. Cas must have moved closer when Dean fell asleep. He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact with anyone in the car. They probably all noticed anyways, but he didn't want them bringing it up.

"You were snoring so loud, dude," Sam said, glancing at Dean in the rearview mirror as he and Jack chuckled as if they had some inside joke. "Right in Cas' ear too. Poor guy," he continued, making Dean's face red. Of course, Sam would never pass up on an opportunity to make fun of Dean, especially when he knew it would embarrass him. Usually, Dean dished it right back, but in this case, he didn't have anything to defend himself. He was a loud snorer and he was practically drooling on Cas' shoulder, so he hung his head in defeat, not even bothering to glare back at his little brother. 

"It's okay, Dean," Cas assured him, only making it worse as his rough voice made the heat creep back into Dean's neck, flooding his face. "You didn't look comfortable, so I let you sleep on my shoulder. The snoring didn't bother me," he continued, deepening the redness on Dean's face more and more as Sam snickered in the front seat, his eyes holding Dean's with that amused, cocky grin on his face. This time, Dean did glare at him, but it didn't accomplish much. "Sam and Jack screaming to that rock music was way more distracting than your snoring. I'm not sure how you slept through it," Cas teased, making Sam and Jack yell at him in defense of their horrible singing.

Dean managed a small laughed, glad the subject was changing. "Sam never could sing," he jumped in, getting the attention away from his snoring in Cas' ear. "Always sounded like some kind of dying animal. Dad would have to turn crank the volume just to cover him up." Dean smiled at the fond memories of his childhood. The few good ones they had consisted of John teasing Sam about getting singing lessons as the kid belted the words to some rock song, clearly tone deaf. Dean would hold his ears, taunting Sam by insisting his ears were bleeding. 

"Hey!" Sam protested, defeated as the laughter now targeted him. "Alright, watch out Dean, I have plenty of stories about you from when we were kids!" he threatened, shutting Dean up pretty quick. He didn't need Sam going into details about Dean as a child, because those stories would definitely scare Cas and Jack away for good. 

"Alright, fine," Dean gave in, stretching his legs as best as he could in the cramped back seat. "We should stop soon. It's getting late," he said, forgetting the subject of their horrible childhood stories. Sam didn't seem too upset about the subject change either, relaxing more into the seat as he drove into a little neighborhood that reminded Dean a lot of his childhood home. The houses were small and despite the damage to some of them, they looked just as cozy as the one he lived in when Sam was still a baby and their mom was alive. He felt a tug in his chest, thinking about it. "This little town looks promising. Find a house, we'll set everything up, and settle in for the night." He felt his stomach grumbling after he said it, all the more reason to find a place to stay. He was sure everyone else was getting hungry too. 

"Sounds good," Sam answered, slowing down as they looked over the houses, pointing out ones that were too damaged, too small, too ugly, or any other objections. Soon, they were nearing the end of the neighborhood and a nice, big, seemingly undamaged house came into view. Sam pulled into the driveway of the two story house, cutting the engine as they all slowly piled out of the Impala. They stretched their limbs, Dean listening to the crack of his bones as he groaned, still feeling the repercussions of that fight from the night before. Cas gave him a worried glance, but Dean waved him off with a smile, moving around to the back of the Impala as he popped the trunk.

"Home sweet home," Dean sighed. "At least, for now."


	5. Chapter Five

Dean took the keys from Sam, as they stood over the open trunk staring at their belongings. Dean started handing Jack all of their blankets and pillows, Cas most of their food, and then Sam took everything they needed to make the house safe from monsters and ghosts. Dean took what was left, including the weapons. Once they had everything piled up in their arms, they silently made their way up the steps on the porch. After Dean picked the lock, they dropped all of their things in the living room and took a quick survey of their new space. The living room wasn't too small, but the large couch took up a lot of room. There were side tables, a broken television, shattered pictures barely hanging off the walls, and a few other small things scattered around the room. They'd have to do some cleaning if they wanted to stay here, but first they had to make sure the house was empty. 

"We need to do a sweep of the house," Dean announced, making eye contact with Sam. His brother knew the drill, even if it had been ten years since their last hunt. Always check the house before making yourself comfortable. "You and Jack salt the doors and windows down here, me and Cas will get the upstairs. You know the drill." He couldn't let Cas and Jack go off on their own and Dean didn't feel like answering Jack's twenty questions, so this was the only option. 

"Right," Sam nodded, grabbing the sleeve of Jack's coat to pull him along to a different room. Dean watched them disappear before gesturing for Cas to follow him up the stairs.

Dean kept his hand close to his gun, just in case. They walked slowly through the hallway, the floorboards creaking under their heavy footsteps. "The salt keeps ghosts away, right?" Cas asked quietly, close on Dean's heel as they checked the empty rooms for signs of life, human or not. There were three rooms upstairs and one bathroom, so it didn't take long to make a round. So far, nothing. 

"Yeah," Dean answered simply. "Just a precaution."

As they finished looking through the last room, finding nothing, Dean handed Cas a box of salt to start lining the windows. "But what do you do to keep other monsters out? Like those vampires you killed," he asked, watching Dean for a moment before copying his actions on the opposite side of the room. "To my knowledge, there's nothing stopping them from coming in here whenever they want unless you could get your hands on some dead man's blood." Dean have him an impressed glance, though Cas was focused on pouring a line of salt on the window sill. 

"Well, there's not," he agreed. "That's why you have to know how to fight. How to defend yourself," he explained as Cas finished covering the window and turned to face Dean, his expression serious, like usual. Dean raised an eyebrow. "You're an angel, right? Don't you know how to fight?" He found it hard to believe that angels didn't get some kind of training, but then again, they were angels. Dean knew nothing about angels aside from what little Cas had told him. 

"Sure," he mumbled. "When I had my powers. But I'm human now and I'm much weaker than before." He followed as Dean left the room to finish salting the rest of the windows. They stopped in the next bedroom, slightly bigger than the other one, and did the same thing as before. "I'm afraid I'll only get in the way if something happens," Cas continued, eyes on the window as he poured the salt across in a straight line. "I don't want to be useless."

"You're not weak just because you're human, Cas," Dean answered, shaking his head. That kind of thinking was what made him weak, not his human body. Dean knew Cas was stronger than he let on, especially since he'd held off the vamp the night before. Cas would be a good fighter, he just had to believe it himself. "But if it means that much to you, I'll teach you a few things. How to defend yourself against bloodsuckers, werewolves, whatever you can think of. I'm not a great teacher, but-"

"I'd appreciate that, Dean," Cas interrupted, settling a comfortable silence between them as Dean nodded, not sure how to respond. They finished salting the windows in the remaining rooms, which didn't take too much longer. After they were done, Dean turned to go find Sam, only to run into Cas who was standing much closer than Dean thought he was. "What kind of things can you teach me?" he asked, breaking the silence as Dean licked his lips awkwardly, taking a step away from the angel. He straightened out his jacket, just to have something to do with his hands as Cas waited for an answer, those blue eyes staring into his own. 

"I assume you know how to throw a punch," Dean joked nervously, though Cas didn't smile as he impatiently waited for Dean to answer him. "Well, I can show you a few things. Like. . ." he paused, thinking of something Cas could grasp quickly. "Like how to get out of a hold." He grabbed Cas' shoulder, spinning him around so his back was to Dean's chest. "If a vamp wants to take a bite out of your neck and grabs you like this," he continued, wrapping Cas in a tight hold. "How would you get away from it?" He realized quickly he shouldn't have started with this, considering how close they were and how awkward it was holding Cas like this, even if it was to teach him self defense. It made his face red, having another warm body against his own. A hug from the kid was one thing, but Cas was clearly different. 

"I-I'm not sure," Cas answered, his voice faltering. He struggled in Dean's grip, but Dean held on too tight for Cas to escape that easily. 

"Both my hands are busy holding you, so that means I can't block anything you do," Dean reminded him. "Your best bet is to use your head. If you throw your head back and it hits mine, I'm gonna be shocked and that gives you the perfect moment to escape my hold." He reached up, grabbing the back of Cas' head before he could try to actually head butt him and break his nose. "Not now, Cas," he sighed, still holding his grip tightly on the angel, not sure why he hadn't let go yet. "Listen, if that doesn't work, just hit me wherever you can. Use your legs, your hands if they're free, whatever. Anything you can to get the upper hand. Does that make sense?"

"Yes, Dean," Cas answered, his foot suddenly connecting with Dean's shin, forcing him away from Cas with a yelp. Cas looked satisfied as he pushed Dean against the wall, his arm across Dean's chest securely. "Like that?" he asked, his eyes staring into Dean's, surely noticing how red Dean's face was. His arm dug into Dean's chest, probably able to feel every thump of Dean's racing heart. 

"Yeah," Dean breathed, swallowing hard as Cas only moved closer to him, until their legs were nearly pressed together, Castiel's lips inches from Dean's, looking pretty damn inviting. "Like that," he mumbled. He tapped Cas' arm, waving him back so he could breathe normally again. He didn't want to explain to Cas, or to himself really, why he was acting so weird. Why he was suddenly thinking about Cas' lips, or why his heart was beating out of his chest. "Let's go back downstairs and check in with Sam and Jack. I'm starving," he said, changing the subject so he could turn away from Cas. He walked back downstairs, Cas' heavy footsteps right behind him.

"All clear," Sam announced, his eyes meeting Dean's as they all regrouped in the living room. His eyebrows shot up in a questioning glance and Dean tried to look away before Sam could say something, but he was too late. "Why's your face so red? Is it that hot up there?" Sam asked, noticing the look on Dean's face as they all stood in a circle. Dean felt even more embarrassed now that Sam pointed it out, especially since Cas was laughing now. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Cas answered, wiping the grin off his face. "The upstairs is clear too. We should eat something now. Dean's stomach is making odd noises," he teased, only making Dean's embarrassment worse. That's all they freaking did when they were all together. They ganged up on Dean just to embarrass him and Dean was definitely blaming Sam for all of it. 

Sam chuckled, grabbing a bag of food to put between them. "Right, well take your pick."

"I'll throw something together," Dean insisted, throwing the bag over his shoulder as he walked away from them, wanting a second to himself to get over whatever awkwardness was happening between them right now. He didn't feel like sitting in front of Cas and Sam while they laughed at him any more. Instead, he checked around the kitchen for anything usable left behind. Eventually, he settled on cans of beans they had in their bag, using their can opener to get the lid off so he could distribute it onto plates. He took his sweet time, not really in a rush to get back in there. 

"Dean," Cas' voice rumbled, making Dean jump as he hadn't even heard the guy walk into the room. He turned around to face the angel, leaning back against the counter. Cas stood there casually, arms at his side, just his normal stoic expression on his face. "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you in front of your brother. I saw how red your face was-"

"Cas, don't," Dean cut him off with a small chuckle. "Don't worry about it." He grabbed two plates, shoving them into Cas' hands before he could bring up anything else about what happened before. "Here, take these to Sam and Jack. I'm right behind you." He waited for Cas to start walking towards the living room before he followed after him, carefully balancing their plates in the palm of his hands. Cas gave his two plates to Sam and Jack, who sat on the floor in front of a dusty coffee table, and then Cas took a seat on the stairs, waiting for Dean to join him.

"Thank you," Cas said softly, taking his food as Dean sat a couple steps below him, leaning back against the wall with his plate in his lap.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, but it was comfortable. Dean's mouth felt dry, despite the food he was shoveling in, and he remembered the bottle of water in the pocket of his jacket. "Here," he said, setting it between him and Cas on the empty step after taking a small sip. Cas eyed it for a second before picking it up himself and swallowing a gulp of water. Dean felt a strange feeling in stomach watching Cas wrap his mouth around his water, but he quickly looked away, staring down at his half eaten plate of beans.

"Are we going to look around tomorrow?" Cas wondered, his fork clanking against the glass plate as Dean felt him staring.

Dean swallowed his food, letting himself glance at Cas for just a few seconds. "Uh, yeah, that's probably the plan. We need to see how much food is around so we know how long we can stay here. Hopefully enough for a few months." He didn't want to keep driving unless they had to because finding gasoline for the Impala was not easy. He may have managed to get out of siphoning the gas this time around, but Sam wasn't always so easy to convince. "We can get a few good hours of sleep tonight and I'll check it out in the morning."

Cas was quiet for a minute as he scratched his fork at the bottom of his empty plate. "Alone?" he worried, a frown setting into his lips. "Sam could go with you. Jack and I would be okay here. We've survived this long," he reasoned. Dean finally worked up the nerve to look at him again, this time holding his gaze without the heat creeping up his neck. He knew he was only reacting this way because they had just met and it was the first attractive person Dean had laid eyes on in years. Once they had spent more time together, Dean wouldn't be such a mess.

"Cas, I'm not leaving you guys alone. Not after last night. Maybe after you've proven to me that you can defend yourself, but not yet." He felt like a dick, controlling them like this. He knew he was being an ass, but he didn't care. He needed to know they were safe and Sam could keep them safe. "If it makes you feel better, I've done supply runs on my own before. I'll be fine."

"It doesn't," Cas replied immediately, his frown somehow deepening, so much it felt like it might become a permanent part of the angel. Dean felt a twinge of guilt looking at it, but he couldn't risk leaving them alone. "I'll come with you." Dean began to object, because there was no way in hell he'd be able to keep Cas safe if something were to attack them out of nowhere. Cas wouldn't let him have the chance to say no. "Sam can stay here and protect Jack. I can go with you and since you'll be there, I'll be safe. Besides, I can fight, I'm just not as strong as you."

"It's not a good idea," Dean tried to reason, the soft tone in his voice getting through to Cas enough to soften the frown on his lips. "We don't know each other that well, Cas, so I can't be responsible for-"

"You're not responsible for what happens to me," Cas cut him off. Dean looked at him with curious eyes, wondering what was going through the angel's head. "I appreciate you taking us in, but I'm not just going to sit around while you and your brother risk your lives for us. I'm going with you tomorrow. There's nothing you can do to stop me." It was the first time Dean saw Cas really stand up for himself, which was a good thing despite the fact that he was arguing against Dean. Cas needed to have that kind of strength to get by in this shitty world. 

Dean stared at his empty plate, knowing there was nothing he could do at this point. Cas wasn't his responsibility, as much as it felt like he was. "Alright," Dean mumbled, standing up quickly as he scooped up Cas' empty plate as well. "Get changed and pick a room upstairs to sleep in." He left Cas sitting on the step as he took the dirty plates to the kitchen, setting them off to the side to be cleaned later. Hopefully they could find some clean water running through town soon to cook and clean with. For tonight, Dean didn't want to worry about anything but sleeping.

When he returned to the living room, Sam was dividing up the blankets and pillows, making sure everyone had something. The days were scalding hot, but at night, the subtle breeze could be chilly. In the bunker, it didn't affect them much, but now they were well above ground. "Did everyone figure out which room they wanted?" Dean asked, picking his own blanket out of the pile before Sam could give it away.

"There's only three rooms," Jack shared, folding an old quilt over his arm as he hugged a pillow to his chest. "Castiel and I can share a room. He said he'd sleep on the floor."

Dean glanced at Cas, raising an eyebrow. "That won't be necessary," Dean assured them, dropping his blanket on the floor at his feet. "I'll be sleeping right here to keep watch. If anything breaks in, I'll be the first to hear it." He was a light enough sleeper, if a vamp or something equally as monstrous decided to stop in for a midnight snack, he could stop them before they got to anyone upstairs. He slept with his gun and machete next to his pillow anyways. 

Sam didn't seem surprised by Dean's sleeping arrangements, but Cas looked like he wanted to object. Dean didn't think he would after the silence seemed to settle over them, but then Cas shook his head. "I would like to stay downstairs as well," he insisted, throwing his blanket and pillow next to Dean's on the floor. "I'd feel much more comfortable knowing you're not down here alone. After everything you've done, it's the least I can do in return." His eyes held that same look of determination that they had on the stairs. He seemed to have found a way to get what he wanted when it came to Dean. All he had to do was give him that look, like Dean had no choice. 

"Cas," Dean started, trying to think of a polite way to tell him it wasn't going to happen. There were a few reasons, one being that he hated the way he felt when he was alone with Cas, like he was some teenager who couldn't control his emotions and body. He also didn't want Cas getting hurt if something actually did come through the door to kill them all. "I'll be fine by myself."

Sam shrugged his shoulders, eyeing Dean and Cas suspiciously. "If he wants to sleep downstairs, I say let him," Sam agreed. "It would make me feel better if you weren't alone too," he added, but there was a bit of a smirk on his face that meant he was doing this for other reasons. Dean replayed the conversation they had in the store earlier today over in his head, remembering how Sam brought up Cas out of nowhere. Maybe he was trying to get Dean to admit things he had buried years ago. It would never happen, but Sam had his ways of weaseling into Dean's mind where he didn't belong.

"Alright, fine," Dean grumbled, shoving past the three of them to get to his bag of clothes. He couldn't win an argument anymore with the three of them teaming up against him. He grabbed a pair of pants and a shirt to sleep in from his bag, not bothering to wait for everyone to leave the living room before stripping down to put them off. Before he was completely changed, Sam and Jack had said their goodnights and trudged upstairs to get some sleep. Dean folded up his shirt and jeans, his hand catching on something in his pocket. He suddenly remembered Cas' tie that he folded up and put in his pocket. He grabbed it out, turning around to look at Cas, who was still in his regular clothes. "Here," he mumbled, stepping closer to the angel with a hesitant look on his face.

"What's this?" Cas wondered, eyeing Dean's balled up fist with his head cocked to the side in confusion. Dean snorted, unfolding the tie before gently tossing it over Cas' neck, accidentally pulling him closer as he did so. They both blushed, Dean gulping as he realized how closer they were. "Where did you find this?" Cas asked, his voice low and quiet, too intimate for this situation to be comfortable. His hands flew up to grab onto Dean's, still holding each end of Cas' tie.

At the touch of Cas' fingers, Dean pulled away, not bothering to tie it because he was going to change out of those clothes anyways. "You left it behind yesterday when you and Jack left. I planned on keeping it, since I never thought I'd see you again, but. . . you're here now, so you should have it back." He resisted the urge to grab it again, just to feel the fabric between his fingers as he stood this close to Cas. He wanted these feelings to fade quicker, so he could stop feeling so bad about being around Cas.

Cas smiled softly, grabbing one end of the deep blue tie to slide it off his neck, holding it in his hands for a moment as he stared at it. Finally, he folded up again, silent as Dean watched his every move. When he held it out to Dean, there was a brief moment of panic in Dean's chest. What was he doing? "Keep it," was all Cas said, taking Dean's hand to force the meaningless piece of fabric into his grip. Dean wasn't sure how to respond, so he didn't. Instead, he took the tie and swallowed hard, glancing at Cas just to be sure.

When Cas turned away to dress for the night, Dean let out a deep breath, looking away before Cas could start stripping. He didn't need to deal with those kinds of feelings right now anyways. He tucked the tie into the side pocket of his bag for safe keeping, though he wasn't sure why he wanted to keep it safe. It was just a piece of fabric. Once it was tucked away, he turned back to find Cas wearing the pair of plaid pants Dean gave him along with one of Dean's old t-shirts, which made him chuckle.

"What, the shirt I got you today wasn't good enough?" Dean teased, trying to lighten the mood. Cas was always so serious, always making Dean's face incredibly red, so he thought this was a safe route to take. Teasing Cas just like he would tease Sammy.

Cas looked down at his outfit, grabbing the hem of the shirt to stretch it out while he stared at the old rock band on the front. "I like this shirt," he said simply, glancing at Dean, whose face was still burning with embarrassment, despite the fact that he was going for the opposite effect. "I can change if you want this back," he added, getting the shirt halfway over his torso before Dean instinctively reached out and grabbed it, straightening it back down over Cas' stomach.

"I didn't mean you had to change," he faltered, pushing back a nervous laugh. "I was just messing with you, man. Keep the shirt."

Cas hesitated, still holding the hem of his shirt, but eventually he dropped his hands and tore his eyes away from Dean's. "Okay," he agreed. "Tomorrow, I'll wear the one you got me today, Dean," he promised, laying his blanket out on the dirty floor to lay down. The couch was too torn and incredibly disgusting, so they couldn't sleep there. Meaning, they both had to sleep on the floor.

"Sam left us more than two blankets, right?" Dean asked, ignoring Cas' last statement because he couldn't handle talking about Cas wearing his clothes anymore. It was just getting too weird. He searched the bags and the pile of blankets on the floor, only finding two. One to sleep on, one to cover up. Except, there were two of them. They had plenty of blankets, which Dean knew for sure, because he was the one who packed them. When he realized Sam had taken all but two of the blankets, he groaned, running a hand over his face in frustration. "Bitch," he grumbled.

"We can share, can't we?" Cas wondered, innocently. He took a blanket from Dean's arms, laying it out on the floor without waiting for Dean's answer. Cas laid out the pillows for them too, putting them inches apart. "There, that'll do, won't it?" He stood back, glancing at Dean, waiting for him to say something. Dean was too busy thinking about how he was going to murder Sam in the morning. "Dean?" Cas called, waving a hand in front of his face.

"Yeah," Dean grunted, lowering himself to the hard floor reluctantly. Cas hesitated, but did the same, keeping a few inches between them as they fanned out the blanket to cover the both of them. Silence settled over them, the only sounds were their quiet breaths and the occasional brush of their body parts scraping against the hard floor. Dean couldn't sleep, for more than one reason.

After a while, Dean heard Cas sigh softly and couldn't help but glance over at the angel, both of them still wide awake. Dean could see his eyes staring up at the ceiling in the light of the moon shining through the window. "I never could fall asleep easily," Cas admitted, breaking the silence with his rough voice. Dean shivered, but he pretended it was from the slight draft in the room. There wasn't really a draft. "What helps you sleep, Dean?"

Dean cleared his throat, feeling the need to make some kind of noise while he searched for a reply. What helped him sleep? Being alone, for one. Not having to worry about someone sleeping next to him. "My mom used to tell me stories," he said, instead of the first thing that came to mind. "Before the apocalypse," he added.

Cas hummed, his fingers tapping the hard, wooden floor. "I would tell you about how I came to Earth, about my family. . . but I don't think I know you well enough to share something so personal," he admitted. "I might scare you away."

Dean chuckled, despite the awkwardness he felt in this moment. He wanted to keep talking to Cas, but he also wanted to disappear and never have to face the kinds of things Cas made him involuntarily feel. Things he pushed away as a teenager, and then when the apocalypse started, he had no reason to feel, or think that way. Now, he had no choice but to face it, no matter how much he fought it.

"That's okay, Cas," Dean said eventually, closing his eyes despite not feeling tired at all. The silence settled again, though this time it didn't feel as tense. It still took hours, but eventually, Dean felt himself drift off to sleep.


	6. Chapter Six

It didn't take long for the four of them to fall into a routine. Every week, Dean would take Cas out into town for supplies, teaching him a few things about self defense along the way. Cas was actually a strong fighter, but he wasn't as good at defending himself as he was at punching people's lights out. While they practiced defense and gathered food and other supplies day after day, Sam and Jack worked on cleaning the house, painting demon traps, and Sam even taught Jack how to cook different meals over a fire. It had been two months since they left the bunker, since the undead dropped off the face of the planet. Dean was hesitant to say it, but he was actually happy for once. Cas and Jack were two amazing people who fit right in with Sam and Dean. They worked well together, the four of them, which made everyone's life easier. Dean was used to it being him and Sam, which wasn't always easy. Now, living was a walk in the park.

Dean thought it would get easier, being around Castiel. He thought those feelings in his chest would fade, that his face would stop turning a deep shade of red at the sound of Cas' voice. He thought he would be able to talk to him normally, even as Cas walked around the kitchen without a shirt on when laundry day came around. Dean swore those feelings were only because he hadn't been around anyone since before the apocalypse, but he was wrong. He still blushed when Cas laid down beside him at night on the cold living room floor. He held his breath when Cas' hand brushed past his own when they walked into town together. His heart beat hard against his ribcage when Cas practiced his self defense moves on him, sometimes shoving him up against a wall, or wrapping him in some kind of hold. It was something Dean realized he wasn't going to get over. He was attracted to Cas, whether he liked it or not. Would he ever admit that out loud? Never. Not willingly, at least. It wasn't much more than attraction, anyways. It had only been two months since they met, so he was sure that was all it was.

Today was another routine supply run, just like the past two months. Dean scarfed down his breakfast that Jack worked so hard on this morning, drank half a bottle of water, and started gearing up for the run. Cas had eaten his breakfast outside with Jack, the two of them sitting together on the rusty porch swing. Sam was with them too, leaning against the wooden railing that looked moments from snapping under his weight. Dean appreciated how comfortable they all were now, but he didn't particularly feel like conversating this morning. He didn't get much sleep last night. Every sound he heard from outside reminded him of the monsters out there waiting to rip their flesh off. He laid awake all night, torn between listening to the imaginary sounds, or Cas' soft snores from beside him.

"Dean?" Cas' voice startled him, the knife in his hand clattering to the floor. Dean sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before turning around to face the angel. "Sorry, I thought you heard me come inside," Cas apologized, taking a couple steps closer, kneeling to pick up the discarded knife at Dean's feet. He handed it back, waiting for Dean's fingers to wrap around the hilt before dropping his hands back to his sides. "Jack was asking about you. He's worried because you've been quiet since yesterday after you saw that vampire."

Dean closed his eyes, the lump in his throat preventing him from speaking. He replayed the scene in his head. They were outside the house, basking in the cool night time air. Jack had caught a firefly in his hands, marvelling over the golden glow coming from the bug. Castiel and Dean stood side by side, laughing at the kid. Sam was across from them, desperately trying to catch more to add to the jar.

That was when Dean heard it. It was faint, but after years of being on edge, the sound of the twig snapping caught his attention easily. He had looked up, eyes locking with another pair of dark, beady eyes across the street. The figure lingered in the shadows, watching them, as if Dean couldn't see him. When it stepped out into the pool of moonlight shining down on the empty street, it bared its teeth, revealing what it was. Dean immediately drew his machete, pushing Cas behind him to go after the damn thing, but as soon as it saw Dean was prepared to cut its head off, it took off into the safety of the forest again. Dean ran after it, chasing it for nearly an hour before he had to give up and return home. It was for that reason, he couldn't sleep for even a second. What if that thing came back and Dean wasn't awake? What if he wasn't prepared to hack it's head off and it somehow got to Cas first? Dean would never be able to live with himself. He knew that thing was out there and it was only a matter of time before it came after them.

"Dean," Cas said again, his hand hesitantly reaching out to grab the sleeve of Dean's flannel, tugging slightly. "What's wrong?" His fingers twisted into the fabric of Dean's shirt and Dean could only stand there, staring intently at Cas' long fingers as they hooked into the dark fabric. He swallowed the lump in his throat, shaking his head slowly. "Dean, please," Cas tried again, his voice softer this time, more coaxing than anything. He was trying to pry it out of Dean, and maybe it was working.

"I couldn't sleep," Dean answered, his voice cracking as he met Cas' eyes, holding his gaze. "I thought-" he paused, licking his lips nervously. He didn't like talking about things like this, exposing himself, being vulnerable. "If that thing came back and I wasn't ready to kill it, something could have happened to you. I mean, Cas, you were right next to me, sound asleep. If it came back-"

"Don't do that," Cas cut him off, his fingers unraveling from the flannel, smoothing out the fabric, gripping Dean's arm in a strong hold. "You searched for an hour, Dean. It was gone. We're all okay," he said reassuringly, slowly releasing his hold on Dean's arm. "We're going to go out there, bring back some food, and then tonight, you're getting some sleep. I'm not resting until I hear you snoring." Dean didn't know how to reply when Cas talked to him this way, like he was in charge or something. Usually, Dean had a way of taking over, leading everyone. Rarely, he let his guard down, like right now. In those moments, Cas took over, emotionally manhandling him until Dean bent to his will. This was like that.

"Okay, Cas," Dean mumbled, watching the angel back away, only breaking eye contact when he had to turn around to grab his bags for the supply run. In silence, they set out like normal, walking the familiar streets into town where the strip of stores were located. They hadn't been in all of them, as some of them weren't really necessary, like the clothing stores, the pet stores, and there was even a sex store that Dean refused to even look at as they passed. Dean couldn't even imagine having to explain half of the things in that store to Cas, the clueless angel.

The first store was just a regular old grocery store, most of which wasn't usable, but they took what they could find. They grabbed canned goods, rice, peanut butter, coffee, whatever was still safe to eat. Once Cas' bag was full, they filled Dean's with more water, because they could never have enough water. They fit as much as they could, zipping up the bags after they were full.

"This is good for today," Dean announced, leading Cas out of the store and back out onto the street. "Ready to head back?" He paused, glancing at Cas, who didn't seem to be paying much attention. He was scanning the street, eyes reading all the broken signs for each store, zoned out completely. Dean rolled his eyes, waiting patiently for Cas to snap back to the conversation.

Suddenly, Cas took off walking towards a store they'd never stepped foot in before. It looked like an old thrift store, but at this point, everything looked old and smelled like it had been used. Dean started to protest, but Cas walked pretty fast and Dean had no choice but to rush after him. He couldn't leave the guy alone, as much as he really didn't want to go clothes shopping right now. "Cas, what the hell is this about?" Dean demanded, catching the door as Cas flung it open without holding it. He followed Cas inside and they had finally slowed down to a normal speed as Cas raked his eyes over the racks of men's clothing.

"You were in need of a distraction," Cas finally spoke, looking through various racks of shirts. "We've never been here before. I thought you might want to take a look. It will help take your mind off of last night." He glanced at Dean with what almost looked like a smile on his face, but not quite the real thing. Dean had seen Cas smile only a handful of times, a beautiful sight, but unfortunately rare.

Dean carefully sat their bags of food on the ground next to the rack of suit jackets, giving Cas an odd look. "How is this supposed to help?" he wondered, watching Cas take a red jacket off a hanger to examine the clothing.

"I think people call this. . . fun?" he answered, but Dean couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. It was hard to read this guy. "Take off your outer layer," Cas told him, gesturing to Dean's jacket. Dean raised an eyebrow, his fingers gripping the edge of his jacket, hesitating. He felt sort of exposed right now, Cas telling him to strip while he actually considered doing everything the man told him to do. What was wrong with him? "Dean, just the jacket," Cas cleared, rolling his eyes.

"Right," Dean mumbled, clearing this throat. He shrugged off his jacket, still unsure why he was listening instead of leading them home where they should have been going instead of this place. Dean dropped his jacket next to their bags, his feet glued to the floor as Cas stepped closer, helping Dean into the ridiculous suit jacket. "What's the point in this again?" he asked, holding his arms out like a child as Cas smoothed the material on Dean's sides.

"Just for fun," Cas repeated with a breath that sounded slightly like a laugh. "Maybe I wanted to see what you look like in a suit," he teased, circling back to the front of Dean, who stood there with a red face, though he'd never admit Cas being this close to him made his cheeks flush. Cas slowly pushed Dean's arms back down to his sides, stepping back to admire the fit. "Hm, maybe some dress pants?" he suggested, already thumbing through the different styles of pants hanging on the wall to the right of them.

Dean snorted, turning to a tie display a few feet away. "Yeah right," he answered, shaking his head. He wasn't about to strip off his pants in the middle of an abandoned clothing store just so Cas could make fun of how he looked in a suit. "Are you trying to objectify me, Cas?" he teased, running his fingers over a red tie, feeling the smooth silk between his thumb and index finger. It didn't feel the same as Cas' blue tie, which was still safely tucked away in Dean's bag at home. He wasn't sure why he kept it, but he did.

"No," Cas replied seriously, his voice carrying across the empty store. "I just thought it'd be a nice change from your normal lumberjack look."

Dean frowned, turning his head to glare at the angel, but he wasn't even looking at Dean. He was still checking out pants, holding them up to his waist and stretching them out as if he could figure out Dean's size just from doing that. "I liked you better when you hardly talked," Dean grumbled, though they both knew that was a lie. Dean had opened up so much more since Cas started having actual conversations with him. He didn't share his most personal secrets, ones that even Sammy didn't know, but he talked a lot. He told Cas about his mom and how she died. He talked about raising Sammy and how they took care of each other during the apocalypse. He told Cas a lot of things he never thought he'd talk about with another person.

"These look like they'd fit," Cas observed, ignoring Dean's insult completely. Dean didn't even look at his, knowing there was no way in hell he'd be putting on a pair of dress pants. That was far from his idea of fun. Dean continued rummaging through the ties, admiring each one for their different designs and fabrics. He heard Cas walking up behind him, just as his eyes landed on a striped tie with different shades of blue. The same colors Cas had in his eyes. The colors Dean couldn't help but notice every time they ended up staring at one another, which happened way more than it should have. "Humor me, Dean," Cas was saying, his voice softer now that they were inches apart.

Dean slowly turned around, his feet barely leaving the ground as he spun to face the angel, the tie hanging loosely in his hands. He met Cas' eyes, admiring that color as his hands moved on their own, without permission from his brain. He draped the tie over Cas' neck, pausing to pop the collar on his shirt. He watched his fingers work, slowly knotting the tie as Cas watched him, both of them basking in the silence. When it was tied, Dean carefully tightened it, fixing Cas' collar to complete the look. He wanted to move his hands away immediately, but he couldn't seem to pull away. Cas dropped the pants he had been holding onto, which was the only thing that snapped Dean back to the real world. He cleared his throat, taking a step away from Cas, his back smacking into the tie display.

"Why did you pick this one?" Cas wondered, picking up the end of the tie with a genuine smile on his face. Dean was frozen just from looking at that smile. He couldn't speak until Cas finally looked up, their eyes meeting again. "Dean?"

"It has stripes," Dean answered, instead of the truth. He couldn't tell Cas he picked that one specifically because it reminded him of Cas' eyes. That would have been awkward, trying to explain that whole situation to Cas. He wasn't the kind of guy to pick up on social cues, but that was fine. Dean didn't want him to know that he was. . . what was he exactly? He was attracted to this guy, clearly, but he didn't like him like that. They were friends. Pretty much family at this point. Dean could never be with him like that. To subject Cas to that. . . well, that would be cruel. Dean had so much inner turmoil, trauma from being raised by John Winchester. He just wasn't relationship material. Besides, Cas didn't seem like he would be a relationship type guy either, being a literal angel and all that.

"I like it," Cas smiled, staring down at the tie again, as if Dean had just given him the greatest gift of all time. They stood there for what felt like a long time, but Dean may have just been imagining that. Dean didn't know what to say, or how to explain that intimate moment they just shared. Maybe Cas though nothing of it, but Dean knew it was weird, he just couldn't bring himself to feel guilty. "Dean, we should probably head back if we-" Cas started, cut off abruptly as Dean clamped a hand over his mouth, the sound of heavy footsteps catching his attention.

"We're not alone," Dean whispered, slowly pulling his hand away from Cas' face. He searched the store as far as he could see without moving from that spot, but saw nothing. He glanced at Cas, motioning with his eyes for him to follow as Dean started moving farther into the store. They made it as far as the dressing rooms in the farthest corner of the building, but they didn't find anything. "Alright, let's just get the hell out of here," Dean grumbled, his chest tight. He knew there was someone in this building, but they weren't coming out.

Cas started to walk away first, Dean on his heel. Suddenly, something jumped out from the shadows to their left, hidden by racks of clothes. Dean saw the sharp teeth and the deadly look in it's eyes for a split second. Without so much as a second thought, he wrapped his hand around the first thing of Cas' he could grab, which just so happened to be his new tie. He dragged Cas into the dressing room, slamming the door closed as he clicked the lock. The room was too small for both of them to fit comfortably, but they had a few inches of space between them. Dean still had that damn tie wrapped around his hand tight.

"Vampire?" Cas wondered, his voice barely a whisper. Dean nodded slowly, using his free hand to search for his weapons, only to realize they were all in his jacket, which was on the floor near the exit. He cursed under his breath, slowly unwinding his hand from Cas' tie. "What do we do?" Cas asked, fearless. Of course he wasn't afraid. He never was.

Dean looked around the dark room, feeling around for anything to use as a weapon. He felt a metal bar, probably attached to some kind of rack for clothes. "Cas, watch out," he warned, putting himself between Cas and the metal rack as he pried it apart. Once the bar was free, he held it carefully at his side, moving back into Cas' personal space so they were face to face again. He couldn't hear the vampire outside the door anymore, but it had to still be in the store. It was still light outside and vamps hated the sun.

"Dean?" Cas demanded, impatient.

Dean took a deep breath, fingers finding that stupid tie again for no reason. "Here's the plan," he started, his leg brushing against Cas', reminding him how close they were. "My machete is in the pocket of my jacket at the front of the store. I have this metal bar here, but it won't take the things head off. I can fight it off, but I need you to get the machete. You have to be the one to kill it, Cas. Can you do that?"

Cas hesitated, but Dean couldn't see the look in his eyes. Finally, Cas' strong fingers wrapped around Dean's, still holding that tie like Cas would fly away if he let go. "I can do that," Cas promised, his hand warm and comforting. Dean felt a little less worried.

Dean took a deep breath, releasing his grip on Cas, instead grabbing the door. Slowly, he pushed the door open, his makeshift weapon ready to attack. He heard Cas close behind him, but no other footsteps besides their own. Quietly, they made their way to the front of the store where their things were. The sun made a convenient pool of light toward their pile of stuff, which Dean followed religiously to scope out the rest of the space around them. They almost made it. Dean could see his jacket, the handle of his machete sticking out in the open. He made a long stride towards it, then heard the scuffle of someone being dragged off their feet. Cas' strained voice screaming, "Dean!" And Dean had to turn around to help him, he couldn't let Cas get hurt, no matter how close he was to picking up that knife.

He pivoted on his foot, rearing back the metal bar to swing. He had to calculate this just right to miss Castiel's head. The vampire had Cas on the ground, teeth aimed right for his neck. Dean swung without hesitation, metal striking a hard skull. The vampire cried out, but Dean hit hard enough to free Cas from its grip. Instead, it aimed its anger- or hunger, maybe- at Dean. Cas managed to scramble back to his feet, just as Dean was tackled to the floor. The only thing between him and those teeth sinking into his skin was the metal bar holding this thing inches away. Dean pushed, tried to use his legs, but the thing was positioned in a way that Dean couldn't get the upper hand.

"Cas, the jacket!" Dean called, wherever he had gone off to. Cas got away, but Dean didn't see where he ran. He felt his arms giving out, the razor sharp teeth gradually getting closer and closer to his flesh. The hunger crazed monster growled and snarled, drooling all over Dean's face, not even speaking. Dean groaned, turning his head slightly to avoid getting freaking vampire saliva in his mouth. "Cas, now would be a great time to find that jacket!" Dean yelled, his arms shaking under the weight of the body holding him down.

"Over here!" Cas' voice called from out of Dean's sight, catching the vamp off guard. Dean took his window of opportunity, flinging the thing off of him, watching it slide a few feet across the hard floor. Dean finally spotted Cas, standing right where Dean threw the vamp. In an impressive show of his strength, Cas grabbed the vamp by it's hair as it kneeled on the ground. It could have overpowered Cas, probably, if Cas hadn't yanked it's head back quickly, throwing the vamp into shock as Cas swung the machete without hesitation. The head slid off like it was the easiest thing Cas had ever done, hanging there as Cas watched the body fall to the ground with a loud thud. Then, he dropped the head, wiping his hands on his coat with a small sigh.

"Holy shit," Dean mumbled, still sitting there, leaning up on his hands as he stared at Cas in complete shock. He was frozen in place, impressed and also incredibly turned on at the same time. He'd never seen Cas like that before. Strong, controlling, fearless. Dean knew the guy could fight, but to witness him hack a vamp's head off on his first try, with one hand, his eyes dark. . . god, Dean was really fucked.

He only felt himself breathing again when he realized Cas was holding out a hand to help him up. Dean stared at the hand, the outstretched fingers that had been holding the severed head only moments before. Dean let out a shaky sigh, taking the angel's hand even though he didn't need it.

"Are you okay?" Cas asked, the concern showing in his pretty blue eyes. Dean swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. He nodded. Cas dropped his hand almost as soon as Dean was standing again, so now there were just in each other's space, looking at each other. Dean felt a sudden pang of guilt, the reality of the situation setting in. "Dean, you don't look okay," Cas argued, stepping closer as Dean felt his feet shuffling backwards. Why was he moving away? Cas was just trying to help, but he couldn't let him get closer.

"That was. . ." Dean started, trailing off. Why did it matter? So it was the same vampire Dean couldn't kill last night. He looked for that thing for an hour, but he couldn't find it. He couldn't kill it. He couldn't keep Cas safe. It almost killed Castiel. Dean almost got Cas killed.

"Dean," Cas said again, firmer this time, as if it were a warning. Dean blinked slowly, eyes meeting Cas'. He didn't say anything. He couldn't admit what was going through his head. He knew Cas would argue against it, try to rationalize everything, but Dean wouldn't believe it. He just wanted to get home. He wanted to make sure Cas at least got home safe, in one piece. He wanted to make sure Sam and Jack were still okay. "That was what, Dean?" Cas asked, or more so demanded.

"The vampire from last night," Dean finished, because Cas wouldn't let him go without some kind of answer. That was all he offered. "Come on, let's go home," he changed the subject, his voice faltering. A part of him wanted to tell Cas the whole truth, just to hear him say it was all going to be okay, but he didn't. Instead, he slipped off that stupid suit jacket and replaced his normal one, grabbing the rest of their things. Cas took his bag from Dean, so they each had one slung over their shoulder. Dean led the way out of the store, back out into the sun, away from the dark.

They walked in silence, their arms brushing every now and then when Cas drifted closer, even after Dean tried to put distance between them. Dean didn't feel like he deserved to be that close to Cas. Not after what happened. Dean could have prevented the whole situation if he had just tried harder last night to find the damn vampire, so now he was suffering the consequences.

"Dean?" Cas asked after ten minutes of silence, their feet scraping the concrete the only noise filling the air. Dean didn't want to talk, fearing his voice would betray him somehow. Instead, he glanced at Cas as they walked, an eyebrow raised in question. Cas glanced down, but Dean didn't understand what he was looking at. Dean's hands? That couldn't be it. Maybe his bags. "Dean, do you remember when you put stitches in my head two months ago, after the first vampire attack?" he continued, his voice warmer than usual.

"Yeah," Dean croaked, watching the ground in front of him as his boots slapped against the sidewalk.

"Do you remember what you said about holding someone's hand? When you're hurt, holding someone's hand makes it hurt less, right? It grounds you, I think." Dean looked at him again, confused. His stomach hurt, despite having eaten this morning. Maybe it was the guilt. Dean almost got Cas killed, yet here this guy was, talking to him like nothing ever happened. "Do you think that works for emotional wounds?" Cas wondered.

Dean shrugged, feeling the heavy weight of the bag on his shoulder only when he moved it. "I guess, maybe?" he mumbled, unsure of what this had to do with anything. What got Cas thinking about 'emotional wounds' in the first place? "Why, do you have some kind of emotional wound?" Dean asked, half teasing.

"No," Cas answered, and suddenly his fingers grabbed Dean's, intertwining them easily, no resistance from Dean at first, mostly because he was so confused about what was happening. "I think this could help you."

"W-What?" Dean faltered, lifting their tangled fingers as if to examine them. Cas pushed them back down, only glancing at Dean for a second. "Cas, I'm fine," he assured the angel, but they both knew it wasn't true. "Really, Cas, you don't have to do this," Dean tried, hoping something would get through to him. Cas didn't look like he was budging, but Dean wasn't done punishing himself for being so stupid. He needed longer to mull over what he had caused. "Cas, come on, let go," he pleaded, but his voice was weak.

"Just try it for a few minutes," Cas encouraged, his grip tightening. "You might be surprised." Dean sighed heavily, giving in at this point. They would be home within the next twenty minutes. He hoped Cas would get tired of this before then. Maybe his hands would get sweaty and he'd have to pull away. Maybe he only planned on holding on for a minute or two.

Five minutes passed and Dean realized he was squeezing Cas' hand hard, maybe too hard. His mind was racing with thoughts, insults that he could only throw at himself. He hated himself for letting today happen. For putting people he cared about in danger. Those thoughts took over his mind, and apparently his body. As soon as he realized he was probably hurting Cas, he loosened his grip, trying to pry his fingers away.

Cas tightened his grip, glancing at Dean with an assuring smile. "You won't hurt me," he promised. That's what Dean had said to him that first night he agreed to stay. It had more meaning when Cas said it. Dean swallowed hard, his eyes back on the ground, watching his feet with every step. "It's not your fault," Cas said eventually, and again, the grip tightened. Dean took a deep breath. "Does this help?" Cas wondered, genuinely asking, genuinely caring about Dean.

Dean breathed out a shaky laugh. "Yeah, I think so," he answered truthfully.


	7. Chapter Seven

After ten minutes, Dean grew used to Cas' hand in his. The silence between them became comforting, almost like Cas knew Dean didn't want to talk about it. Except, holding Cas' hand was almost better than talking it out, because it said everything they needed to say without actual words. Cas was helping Dean understand that maybe it wasn't his fault when something went wrong. Maybe sometimes, things just got fucked up because that was something that just happened. It wasn't like Dean forgave himself or anything, but he actually was starting to feel better.

As they approached the house, he felt a bit of dread set in, knowing he'd have to let go. Cas slowed down at the end of the block, their feet dragging the sidewalk. "Do you want to stay out here a while longer?" he asked, gesturing to their hands. Like it was some kind of medicine. The longer they held it, the better chances that it would work. If only it really worked that way.

"No," Dean exhaled, squeezing the angel's hand again, knowing he had to let go. "Thanks, man," he added with a small smile, the best he could manage. Even though it was his choice, he still sighed at the loss of warmth tangled around his own fingers. Cas watched him as they walked, but Dean didn't meet his worried stare. He could just feel Cas looking at him, worrying about him, something he wasn't used to. They walked the last few feet to the house, Dean's feet heavy as he ascended the steps. He wanted to take back what he said and stay outside forever, their hands intertwined.

"That's odd," Cas said, breaking the silence. They stood on the porch, just within arms reach of the door. Dean turned to follow Cas' gaze, eyes landing on a new sight. "Those vehicles haven't been there the whole time, have they?"

Dean felt his stomach clench, the fear setting in as he thought about Sam and Jack being left alone in the house, ambushed by some crazy people. Dean immediately flung the door open, at the same time grappling for his gun at his hip. The second he met unfamiliar eyes, his finger brushed past the trigger, his eyes growing dark. "Step away from my brother," Dean growled, ready to do whatever he needed to protect his family. Cas stayed behind him, close on his heels. Sam was in the middle of the room, sitting on the floor with his hands tied behind his back. Jack was being held against the wall to the left, some guy's arm across his throat.

The woman he had his gun pointed at drew her own weapon, followed by three other people drawing theirs, all pointed at Dean. "You might wanna put that thing away," the woman said, her voice calm. Dean didn't budge, still aimed at her head. He realized he had four guns pointed at his head, but he really didn't care. "Put the gun down," she repeated, eyes narrowing. "Don't be stupid."

Dean felt his jaw clench and it took everything he had not to shoot her right then and there. "As long as I shoot one of you before you kill me, I'll consider that a win," Dean snapped, ignoring Cas' hand twisting into the fabric of his jacket near his back, holding him even closer, maybe keeping him from doing something harmful. Like get himself killed. "Let Sam go, or you're getting a bullet in your brain," Dean continued, using Cas' touch to calm himself enough to recognize he had to negotiate here. He'd be no use to anyone dead. He couldn't save them all if he kept going like this. "The kid too. Let them go."

The woman hesitated, her hands steady as her finger moved away from the trigger. Her gun stayed put, still a threat. "Ketch, put your gun away," she said slowly, eyes darting to the man holding Jack hostage against the wall. After a moment of confusion, the man did as he was told, shoving his gun out of sight. "Garth, now you," she continued, looking at the skinny guy in the back. He did it without question. "Okay, now Claire," she continued. The young girl on the other side of Sam reluctantly put her gun away, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You too," Dean said slowly, his patience growing thin.

The woman raised her eyebrows, offering one small nod. "Okay, same time?" She waited, not moving until Dean agreed. They moved in sync, both taking one hand off at a time until finally there were no weapons out threatening to kill people. Dean felt Cas relax against his back, taking a step away from him. "My name's Jody," the woman shared, holding her hands at her sides, as if to prove she wouldn't go for her weapon again.

"Awesome," Dean replied, sarcastically. "Untie my brother and tell your guy to get his hands off my friend," Dean demanded, debating on stepping closer. Sam looked like he wanted to say something, but in his position, he didn't talk. Dean taught him better than that. Jack on the other hand, he sort of looked terrified.

"Let them go," Jody called, eyeing the girl- Claire- in a stern way, until the girl huffed and untied Sam. The guy holding Jack released his arm, giving the kid a subtle push towards Dean. Instinctively, Dean wrapped an arm around Jack's shoulders, pulling him in under his arm. When Sam was free, he joined Dean on his other side, the four of them facing the intruders. "Look, we're sorry about barging in," Jody said, once the silence had settled, becoming awkward. "We have a place not too far from here. A community of people we try to protect. When we saw this place was inhabited, we assumed it was vampires or werewolves."

Dean swallowed hard, trying not to think about that vamp almost killing Cas not even an hour ago. Instead, he focused his energy on these assholes, barging in and putting his brother in danger. "You thought it was-" Dean started, the anger creeping up his neck. Before he could explode, the girl, who looked far too young to be out here wielding a gun, rolled her eyes and cut in.

"Vampires, werewolves, you know. . . monsters? They're real, just like the zombies were real. We kill them and save idiots like you," she smirked, as if she knew more than Dean Winchester about freaking hunting.

Now it was Dean's turn to roll his eyes, resisting the urge to reach for his gun again because he really shouldn't shoot a kid. "No shit," he quipped. "I've been a hunter for longer than you've been alive, kid. Why else would we salt the windows and doors? And did you not see the giant demon traps on the floor?"

The girl shifted on her feet, glancing at Jody with a scowl on her face. "Mom, let's just go. Clearly, these assholes are fine," she grumbled, turning away to walk towards the back door without another word. Dean shouldn't have felt good about embarrassing a teenager, but he couldn't help the little smirk on his face.

Jody rolled her eyes, ignoring her kid, instead moving a little closer to Dean, eyes full of curiosity. "You two are brothers?" she asked, gesturing between Sam and Dean. "And hunters at that." Dean could see the gears turning in her head, but he had no idea what she was going on about. She hummed, throwing some kind of knowing look at the two guys she brought with her before turning back to Dean. "Let me guess. . . Winchesters?"

Dean froze, only for a moment, letting that sink in. She knew their name. "How the hell did you know that?" he demanded, gripping Sammy's arm, as if that would protect him from these stalkers. Jody put her hands up in defense, taking a step back. Dean felt the urge to run, even if that meant leaving all of their belongings here.

"Come see our place," Jody suggested, still calm, her words almost inviting. Dean didn't buy it, but she must have seen it in his eyes. She smiled and it looked sincere, but Dean couldn't be too safe. "You don't have to stay, but I really think you should check it out. Please, Dean?" she asked, catching him off guard when she said his name.

"Dean," Sam said, choosing the wrong time to finally open his mouth. Dean glared at him, but he didn't seem to care. He normally didn't. "We can at least look. She knows who we are. Maybe she knows someone we lost. Maybe she knew dad, or Bobby, or something," he reasoned, the grief showing in his voice. As much of an asshole John Winchester was, Sam still missed him. Dean knew that much. If Sam was right, Dean couldn't argue.

"Fine," Dean agreed, reluctantly. "But we need time to pack our things. We'll drive ourselves." He released his grip on Jack's shoulders, his other hand letting go of Sam's arm. "You can wait outside," he added, grabbing Cas to pull him away from the doorway. As soon as the path was clear, Jody nodded in understanding, motioning for her guys to follow her out. With the room empty, Dean started barking orders, giving each of them a job to do so they could pack up their things. He wanted to get this over with fast, so after they saw this place, he could drive them right back to this house. He didn't want to stay with a bunch of assholes like that anyways. He was perfectly content with what they already had, just the four of them.

Before long, they were piled into the Impala with all of their belongings, following behind the truck leading them to god knows where. Dean almost wished Cas was sitting shotgun because that hand holding stuff for emotional wounds really sounded good at that moment. His head was somewhere else completely as he drove down the highway. Sam mentioned their dad and it brought back a lot of repressed feelings and memories, things Dean thought would be locked away forever after they lost John.

He couldn't have guessed how long the drive took because he wasn't paying close enough attention. He just knew they were pulling up to a makeshift parking lot now, filled with different types of cars and trucks. There was a gate that led into what looked like a typical neighborhood. There were rows of houses in the distance, large buildings that looked like they could be schools or libraries. Dean put Baby into park, right next to Jody's truck. With a sigh, Dean dragged himself out of the car, everyone else following. They clearly wouldn't be able to grab everything out of the car, but Dean made sure to grab his own bag, the one with Cas' blue tie tucked into the side pocket. It held everything important to him, so he couldn't leave without it. Sam grabbed his bag too, and Dean handed Cas and Jack a bag with their own clothes in it in case they did end up staying tonight.

They grouped up right outside the gate, Jody in front of them, as if she were a tour guide or something. "This isn't really going to impact you guys, but I figured I should tell you, that way you can rest assured you're all going to be safe here," she started, turning slightly to gesture to the gate in front of them. "We have a sort of barrier here. A protection spell, if you will. Nothing supernatural can get inside. It protects the entire neighborhood, so there's no chance of anything happening to you while you're here."

"Incredible," Sam murmured from where he stood a few feet in front of Dean, Jack comfortably resting by his side. Jody laughed, and the two of them jumped into talking about the protection spell as Jack followed like a lost puppy, listening intently.

Dean trailed behind, Cas at his side. Out of nowhere, he felt a hand wrap around his own, but he didn't question it this time. Instead, he basked in Cas' reassuring words, just barely a whisper, only for Dean's ears. "We're going to be okay." Dean believed him, even if only for a moment.

Dean held onto Cas for as long as possible, since no one could see them in the back of the group. It was only when they came to a halt in front of a large house that Dean slipped his fingers back to his own side. Cas glanced at him with a questioning look, but Dean wasn't able to give him a good answer. He couldn't tell Cas that the reason he wouldn't hold a dude's hand in front of others was because of years of conditioning. Years of hating himself for liking things he was told he shouldn't like. Things he couldn't get past, even now, well into his thirties.

"You boys wait here," Jody announced, taking a step up onto the porch. "There's someone who will want to see you." She disappeared into the house, leaving the four of them standing out on the sidewalk under the watch of Ketch and Garth, one of which did not look intimidating at all. Dean ignored both of them in favor of turning towards his brother, giving Sam a "are you sure about this" kind of look. Sam shrugged, not really giving Dean the answer he was looking for. The longer they waited, the more anxious Dean grew. What if he just led them into some kind of trap? He shoved his hands in his pockets, ignoring Cas' judgmental looks, asking Dean what was wrong without any words.

Finally, Jody returned, a smile plastered on her face as someone trailed behind her. Dean felt his chest clench, his stomach suddenly sick. His eyes widened. He felt the need to say something, but no words came out. He was frozen. He never thought he'd see that face again. Honestly, he was okay with that. But now, here he was. The same face, just a little older. More wrinkles by his eyes, thicker beard, his hair peppered with gray streaks.

"Dad," Sam spoke first, the word coming out as a breathy laugh. "I can't believe this- it's really you!"

"I thought Jody was pulling my leg," John chuckled, his eyes crinkling with happiness. Dean was still stuck in that spot, staring in shock. John glanced at him, but Sam took his attention back with a tight hug. "My boys," John whispered, closing his eyes as he squeezed Sam for a few long seconds. Their father pulled away, holding Sam at arms length, just looking at him, studying him. Suddenly, his eyes were on Dean, expecting something from him. What was he supposed to say? John stepped past Sam, approaching Dean with the same kind of fondness. "It's good to see you, son," he beamed, drawing Dean in by his elbows.

Dean gulped, reflex taking over as he hugged his dad back, squeezing harder than he meant to. "I thought you were dead," he managed to get out, the words forcing their way out of his throat. He felt tears in the corner of his eyes, but he resisted that urge to break down, to reduce himself to that state in front of his father. "Dad, I thought we'd never see you again." His cheek rested against John's firm shoulder, the warmth reminding him of his childhood, holding onto John's neck as they walked home from the park with Mary. As much as Dean endured from John after Mary's death, nothing could trump those precious memories from before. At first glance, that was all Dean could think about when he saw John. It had been ten years. Maybe he had changed. Maybe he was the John from before. He certainly smiled like him.

"I'm here," John whispered, squeezing Dean hard against his chest, the pressure sending a wave of calm through his body. Slowly, John pulled away, enough to see both Sam and Dean. Surprisingly, the man who never shed a tear after Mary died, had tears in his eyes as he admired the sight of both his boys standing in front of him. "I searched for you," he admitted, shaking his head, the guilt taking over that smile on his face. "For months, I sent out search parties. Even after people wanted to stop looking, I went out on my own. I never stopped looking."

"Dean kept us safe," Sam assured him, giving Dean a proud smile. "We found that bunker you always used to talk about and we made a safe space to ride out the apocalypse." The way he talked made Dean smile, unable to stop himself. He was happy that Sam felt safe with him, even when Dean had no idea what he was doing. For ten years, Dean pretended he had it all figured out for Sammy's sake, but really he had no clue.

"I'm so proud of you boys," John praised, followed by a small sigh. "Why don't you boys come inside? I'll get you something to drink, have a little talk about the neighborhood. Just catch up," he offered, gesturing back at the house behind them.

"Sounds great, dad," Sam agreed, throwing a glance back at Dean, waiting for his okay. Dean nodded, following his dad and Sam inside, making sure Cas and Jack were still in tow. Jody and her guys left them alone as they entered the house, leaving just the five of them to talk. John led them into a large kitchen with a table that sat four. Sam and Dean took seats across from one another, Cas and Jack sitting beside them as John leaned back against the kitchen counter to face them.

"So, these your friends?" John wondered, nodding towards Cas and the kid.

"Yeah, this is Castiel and his nephew, Jack," Dean introduced them, giving Cas a small smile that John couldn't see, because for some reason, Cas looked extremely uncomfortable. Dean couldn't blame him. They were meeting new people, in a new environment, and Cas didn't seem like a people person. "Been with us for a few months now."

"Great," John replied with a friendly smile, offering his hand out to Cas, who took it after a few seconds of hesitation. "It's great to meet you. Any friend of my sons' is welcome here. Glad to have you." He gave Jack a wink that made Jack chuckle, then leaned back against the counter again, crossing his arms over his chest. "So, I'm hoping you boys will want to stay here. We've got a nice system going. People have jobs, we have plenty of food, space to live, and it's the safest place around here. What do you say?"

Sam glanced at Dean, who didn't really have much to say. He knew they were going to stay anyways. Dad would be heartbroken if they didn't, and besides, they'd be stupid to pass up on this offer. Food and shelter without having to worry about vamps ripping their throats out in their sleep? They hit the jackpot.

"We'd love to stay, dad," Sam agreed, speaking for all four of them. Cas didn't speak up, so Dean took that as a yes. "This place looks great. I can't wait to see more."

"I'll give you a tour tomorrow," John promised, placing his hands back on the counter as he looked between Sam and Dean. "We've got a couple houses cleaned up and ready for people to move in. I was thinking your friends, Castiel and Jack, could move in a couple blocks down. You and Sam can stay here, with me. I've got two spare bedrooms, since I live alone. And a great kitchen, obviously."

Dean immediately saw Cas tense up out of the corner of his eye. Jack gave a small pout too, both indicating they didn't want to be separated from Sam and Dean. That was never the plan. Dean hated to let his father down, especially when he looked so excited to have his boys living with him again. But Dean wouldn't leave Cas and Jack alone, even if there was some supernatural barrier up to keep them safe.

"That's a nice offer, but we're sticking together," Dean informed him. Cas visibly relaxed next to Dean, unclenching his fists under the table where only Dean could see him. "At least, I am. I'm not sure what Sam wants to do, but I promised Cas and Jack that I'd keep them safe. I know this place is safe, but I can't leave them alone." He hoped John would understand, but he prepared himself for what would happened if he didn't.

"They would only be two blocks away," John argued, articulating his words slowly. Dean knew that voice. John was on the verge of getting angry since he wasn't getting his way. "You don't want to stay with me? Your own blood?" he asked, his face turning red.

Dean almost backed down, folded under the pressure of his father yelling at him. He felt small, like John actually had a point. But then he realized Cas was gripping his knee under the table, reminding Dean of the time he had to put stitches in Cas' head. If you can't hold someone's hand to take away the pain, hold something else. That night, he grabbed Dean's leg to distract himself from the pain. Was that what Cas was doing now? Was he hurting, emotionally? The thought of living without Dean. . . did that hurt him?

"Cas and Jack are family too, dad," Dean answered, trying not to let how nervous he was seep into his words. He was going to stand his ground, even though this man was his biggest fear. "I'm not leaving them. It wouldn't be right." He sucked in a sharp breath as Cas dug his fingers into Dean's thigh. "We'll still be here, dad. You can see us whenever you want. We just won't be living with you. I want to stay here, but those are my terms. Cas and Jack stay with me."

John looked at Sam, disbelief plastered on his face in place of his anger. Sam shrugged, catching Dean's eyes for a moment before he sighed. "I have to agree with Dean," Sam admitted, voice small. "We've gotten close these past few months and we never planned on splitting up. I want to stay with them too. Nothing against you, dad. It would just feel wrong to leave them like that." Dean audibly let out a sigh of relief, hoping John didn't notice. He was glad Sam had his back. It made it much easier to stand up to his dad when he wasn't alone.

"We only have three bedroom houses available," John grumbled, defeated, yet still trying to get his way. "There's nowhere for all four of you to fit comfortably."

"I'll sleep on the couch," Dean insisted, without hesitation.

Castiel's hand squeezed Dean's leg out of nowhere, forcing Dean to look at him in concern as Cas narrowed his eyes. "Dean, no," he said, voice low.

Dean gave him a stern, but reassuring look. "We've slept on a wooden floor for the past two months, Cas. Compared to that, the couch will feel like sleeping in the clouds. I'll be fine," he promised, only looking away once the deep frown on Cas' lips lightened up a little. Dean met his father's irritated eyes, knowing the only reason John didn't snap was because it had been ten years. Things were different now. Dean had been out of John's grasp for too long. He hadn't realized it until now, but he had become a completely different person. His own person.

"Alright," John conceded, pushing himself away from the counter with an agitated huff. "I guess I understand. You don't wanna ditch your friends. Fine. I'll show you to the house you'll be living in and let you get settled before dinner." The anger was slowly fading from his expression, dangerously calm at this point. Dean treaded carefully, the legs of his chair scraping loudly against the wood floors as he stood up, securing his bag over his shoulder. The others followed seconds later as John gestured with a small head nod for them to follow. 

The walk there took about ten minutes and they mostly passed other houses. Dean studied them, watching children play outside on the front lawns, some adults lounging about on the porch, or playing catch with the children. There were people out walking the streets, chatting as if this were just normal life. It was surreal how normal this all felt. Dean felt a bubble of hope in his chest, like they could actually be happy and safe here. Maybe he could stop feeling like he wasn't good enough to protect his friends and his brother. Maybe he could even work up the nerve to tell Cas how he felt, since they were safe now. Since being with Dean wouldn't put him in danger any more. Maybe.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's been reading and commenting, I appreciate it so much :) The updates will probably stop being so frequent soon because of my exams and group projects for school coming up, but I'll do my best to update once a week

John showed them into the house, but didn't get much farther than the living room before excusing himself. He claimed he had other business to attend to, but Dean could tell he was still getting over the fact that his sons didn't want to live under his roof. Dean didn't mind that John left so quickly. It actually gave him a sense of relief once John was gone, leaving the four of them to figure out sleeping arrangements and what not.

"I want this room!" Jack called from inside the first room, closest to the living room. Dean peeked his head inside, looking around the room, smaller than the other ones. The bed was a twin size with white sheets and a dark blue comforter, all very clean looking. Jack tossed his bag on the bed, turning in a circle until his eyes met Dean's, a grin on his face. "Can I please have this room, Dean?"

Dean snorted, leaning against the doorframe. "Sure, Jack. I don't see why not," he agreed, jumping as someone came up behind him, a strong hand on his shoulder. Suddenly, Cas was next to him in the doorway, inches between them as they looked over Jack the same way John and Mary used to check in on Dean when he was little. They would stand together in the doorway, watching Dean as he tired himself out by babbling about whatever his little head could come up with.

"Cas, Dean said I could have this room," Jack shared, sitting on the bed as he ran his hands over the new bedspread. "It's the smallest, but that's okay. I get my own room. I've never had my own room." He was still smiling that contagious grin of his, making Cas chuckle as he leaned against the opposite side of the door frame as Dean. This all felt so domestic, Dean was starting to enjoy it. "Not that I minded sharing a room with you, Cas. This is just a nice change."

"I'm sure it is," Cas hummed, eyes darting to Dean's, holding his gaze. "Dean, we should let Jack settle into his new room. Come on," he insisted, throwing Jack one last smile as he left the doorway, Dean following behind him without a complaint. He wasn't sure why he was following Cas when all of his things were still in the living room where he planned on sleeping, but he still let Cas lead him down the hall, past the room where Sam was currently laying in his own bed, most likely napping. The last room at the end of the hall was the only unclaimed room and Cas pushed the door open, letting Dean walk past him into the middle of the room before the door was closed behind them.

Dean shoved his hands in his pockets, looking around the room with fake interest. He hardly paid much attention to the details of the room. He was more concerned with being shut into a room with Cas, just the two of them. It was different from sleeping next to him in the living room, or being alone with him on supply runs. Those were out in the open, for anyone to see. This was different. This was terrifying.

"Are you okay?" Cas asked, and it was then Dean realized Cas had moved closer, inches between them as Dean reluctantly met his eyes. He felt his heart pounding against his chest like crazy. After two months, he thought these feelings would fade. He thought he'd be able to control his own body. "Your father. . . he seems to have missed you," Cas went on, when Dean didn't answer. They continued holding eye contact, the moment becoming slightly awkward. "But you didn't seem to share that same sentiment," Cas added, hitting it right on the nose.

"I was glad to see him alive," Dean admitted, taking a step back from the angel, in hopes of making his breaths even out again. Seriously, two months, and he still couldn't be close to Cas without acting like a horny teenager. Dean moved backwards until his legs hit the edge of the queen sized bed, forcing him to sit. Cas followed him, but instead of sitting, he towered over Dean directly in front of him. "There's a lot to unpack there," he continued, his chest tightening for a whole other reason now.

"You have a strained relationship with your father," Cas observed, closer and closer, nearly slotting himself between Dean's legs. This guy had no idea what personal space was. "He used to control you. Maybe he thinks he still does. Yet you chose us over him," Cas continued, cocking his head to the side as he stared into Dean's eyes, and maybe even Dean's soul. Could angels do that? See into people's souls? Not that he had any kind of powers right now anyways, but it still made Dean panic a little at the thought of being so vulnerable in front of Cas. "That took great strength, Dean. I'm proud of you."

Dean swallowed slowly, leaning back on his hands, staring up at his angel. "I wasn't leaving you," Dean confessed, heart still thumping wildly. He knew he could calm himself again if he just looked away, maybe stared at his shoes or something instead. But Cas' eyes held him captive, unable to move an inch. "H-He used to," Dean found himself elaborating, the words stumbling messily out of his mouth. "Control me, I mean. He told me what to do, made me basically raise Sammy, wouldn't let me talk about mom, wouldn't let me date. . . well, anyone really. I wasn't my own person. I was his blunt instrument." He had no idea why he was telling Cas all of this. Maybe it was the look in his eyes. It made Dean feel safe. Safe enough to spill everything, every little secret. His eyes were understanding, sympathetic, and he was really listening to Dean. "I don't want to be that, Cas. I don't want to be angry, and destructive, and broken," he continued, his voice breaking. He knew if he kept talking, he was going to cry. He hated crying. He hadn't cried since the beginning of the apocalypse. After a couple months of taking care of Sam and fighting off the undead, Dean was desensitized to death and the feeling of loneliness that trapped him at night as he tried to sleep. He felt it, but he didn't cry. This was the closest he had been to crying since then.

"Dean," Cas whispered, his thumb brushing across Dean's tense jaw, slowly calming him down, just with that touch.

"I want to be better," Dean mumbled, closing his eyes, leaning into Cas' hand. "I want-"

You, Dean thought.

"What do you want?" Cas wondered, his hand moving away from Dean's face, dropping back to his side. With the loss of contact, Dean brought himself back to reality. The reality where he couldn't have Cas. He couldn't be what he desperately wished he could be. He would always be broken and destructive. He would always carry that anger with him, no matter how hard he fought to get away from it. He could have been freed, maybe, if John hadn't been back in the picture. "Dean?" Cas spoke again, reminding Dean of the question. What did he want?

"Nothing," Dean sighed, rubbing at his eyes, even though he had successfully avoided the tears. He still felt like he had let his guard down too much. He had told Cas more than he needed to hear. Enough for Cas to pity Dean, but not understand him. "Nevermind. I'm just being stupid." He stood up without thinking about how close Cas stood, nearly headbutting him in the process. Cas stumbled backwards, catching himself easily as Dean blinked slowly, watching him. "I- um, I need some air," he stammered, excusing himself.

"Wait, Dean," Cas called, but Dean kept walking, his footsteps heavy and thudding against the hard floor, the sound loud in his eyes as he drowned out Cas' voice.

He found himself sitting outside a few minutes later, resting on the steps leading up to the front porch. It was late afternoon now, so the sun was up, but working it's way towards setting. A subtle breeze had picked up, cooling the back of Dean's neck where he had worked up a sweat from all his anxiety. He tried to clear his head and think about something that didn't involve his dad, or Cas. The two things that had his head all fucked up right now. For two completely different reasons, obviously, but they were equally distracting and he couldn't handle that right now.

Dean half expected Cas to come outside after him and demand to know why he had run out like he did, but the door stayed firmly shut. Dean was relieved to have a few minutes alone to calm his racing heart. He liked the quiet, especially since he hadn't really had a moment like this since he met Cas and Jack. He had no complaints about the company, but he forgot how nice the silence could be sometimes. So he sat there on the steps, leaning back against the wooden railing, his eyes closed as the wind brushed over his skin.

The sound of a door creaking open sounded in his ears, but it was a little more distant than his own front door. He cracked an eye open but saw nothing, so he relaxed again, falling back into that state of peacefulness. Suddenly, he heard footsteps and before he could sit up straight to see the source, a voice chirped, "Oh, that's a new face!" Dean scrambled to sit, reminding himself that he didn't have to pull his gun since they were in a place with no way for supernatural creatures to infiltrate. There was a woman standing in front of Dean, a few feet away, a warm smile taking up space on her delicate features. Her red hair was tucked behind her ears, but strands flew wildly around her face with the wind.

"Uh, hey," Dean mumbled, resting his elbows on his knees. His moment of peace was over.

The woman moved in a little closer, just enough for Dean to see her features a little clearer. "The name's Charlie Bradbury," she introduced, holding out a small hand for Dean to shake. Dean obliged, taking her hand in his for a few seconds before letting it go.

"Dean Winchester," he supplied, unsure of what else he was supposed to say. He didn't have a lot of interaction with people these days. At least, not friendly interaction.

Charlie suddenly slapped a hand over her mouth to cover a small gasp, her eyes widening. "Wait, Winchester? As in. . ." she trailed off, but Dean understood what she was getting at. He couldn't help but chuckle as Charlie looked completely shocked. "You're related to John?!" she demanded, excitedly.

"He's my old man," Dean answered, watching the look of shock on Charlie's face grow even more. This girl was a walking billboard for over dramatic reactions. Dean found her pretty comical though. "My brother and I happened to run into one of your people, Jody. She brought us here. Kind of a miracle we found him, if you ask me. After ten years, we thought he was dead for sure."

"That's insane," Charlie agreed, followed by a small laugh. "So it's just you and your brother living here?" She tucked her hands into the pockets of her jeans, just casually standing there as they talked. Dean found it so odd that he was just sitting on his front porch, conversing with his neighbor, as if they weren't living in a post-apocalyptic world. Outside this bubble, there weren't nice little neighborhoods with people like Charlie, nosy neighbors with good intentions.

Dean shook his head, glancing back at the front door, as if Cas would just walk right outside and sit down next to him like Dean hadn't just freaked out and run off half an hour before. "No, there's also my-" he paused, his mind filtering through all the words he could use to describe Castiel. Finally, he settled on, "my friend, Castiel. He has a nephew, Jack, who lives with us too. Just us four."

A strange look of understanding passed over Charlie's features, as if she could see into Dean's head when he talked about the angel, but the look quickly passed and left Dean wondering if he imagined it. "I'd love to meet everyone," Charlie said, back to her lively self, an excited smile playing at her lips. Dean would have invited her in to meet everyone, but then he'd have to see Cas.

"My brother's actually sleeping right now," Dean replied, the excuse pretty lame, but it was all he had. "And everyone else is unpacking." That was a lie, since their things were still in the trunk of the Impala.

"Of course," Charlie waved him off, complete understanding behind her words. "You just got here. I'll give you time to settle in before I talk your ear off some more. How about I walk you guys to dinner in a couple hours?" she offered, never losing that sparkle in her eye that Dean was growing to like. He definitely could have had worse luck with his neighbors. This girl was talkative, but sweet.

"Sounds great, Charlie," he agreed, returning the smile as she started taking a few steps back, reluctant to leave Dean sitting there alone. He stood to show her he was heading back inside himself. "I'll see you then," he added, giving a small wave as he opened the door, watching Charlie walk off before he stepped back into the house with a small sigh. The house was quiet. Everyone was shut into their own rooms, leaving Dean with nothing left to do but lay down on the couch, his bed for the foreseeable future. He flopped down on the couch with a sigh, resting his hands behind his head as he stared at the ceiling, wishing he had something to do. All of his books were still packed into the trunk of the Impala. Sam was sleeping. Jack was enjoying the perks of having his own room. Cas was ignoring him. Until dinner, he was on his own.

Somehow, Dean drifted off to sleep, despite not being able to clear his head of distracting thoughts. The sheer boredom just got the best of him and sleeping was a way to pass the time.

When he woke again, it was very sudden and someone was shaking him, saying something in his ear. Dean jumped, his hand flying to the floor where he left his gun. Out of instinct, he wrapped his hand around it, but when he realized it was just Jack, he relaxed, withdrawing his hand back to the couch, resting it under his chest. Jack took a few steps back with wide eyes. He knew better than to wake Dean like that, yet the kid still did it all the damn time.

"Dean, there's a nice woman at the door who says she's taking us to dinner," Jack explained, his voice hushed as Dean slowly blinked his eyes, waking himself up. "Sam is still sleeping and Castiel won't open his door. Do you think you could get them? I'm starving." Jack wore that look Sam had taught him. The one that always got them what they wanted because it was impossible to say no.

Dean sat up with a groan, glancing at the front door where Charlie stood, wearing a casual t-shirt with a Star Wars logo on it and a pair of faded jeans. Dean gave her a smile, which she returned with an excited little wave. "I'll go wake them up," Dean promised, stretching his arms across his chest. "Just wait here with Charlie. I'll only be a minute."

"Okay, thanks Dean," Jack replied happily, moving back from the couch to give Dean enough space to get up.

Dean sighed, slowly making his way down the hallway to Sam's room. He knocked on the door and waited a few seconds before barging in, eyes landing on Sam sitting in the middle of his large bed, a book in his hands, wide awake. "Jack said you were sleeping," Dean yawned, still waking himself up as he stared curiously at his brother. Sam looked up from his book, raising his eyebrows. "Dinner time," Dean elaborated.

"Oh," Sam replied, closing the book and setting it to the side. "I was sleeping earlier, but I've been doing some reading for the past hour or so," he explained, dragging himself out of bed to change out of his sweat pants and back into his jeans.

"Our new neighbor is waiting in the living room with Jack, so go out there and introduce yourself once you're decent," Dean told him, stepping back out into the hall. "I'm gonna get Cas and then meet you in there," he added, waiting for Sam to acknowledge him with a nod before closing the door to give him privacy to change. Dean took a deep breath, preparing himself to face Cas as he took slow steps down to the end of the hallway. He knocked lightly a couple times, waiting for Cas to open the door. When the door didn't open, Dean knocked again, harder this time. "Cas, come on man, open the door," he called, sighing heavily when he heard shuffling from inside the room. Dean figured he would wait a few more seconds before just barging in, but luckily, he didn't have to.

Cas flung the door open, so now they were standing there face to face, silence washing over them. Dean seemed to have lost what he came to tell Cas, his mind blank, eyes staring into Castiel's. He swallowed, shifting the weight in his feet, trying to come up with something. He wanted to apologize, but he had too much pride. "We're going to get dinner," Dean suddenly remembered, the words catching in his throat as they came out.

Cas didn't say anything, but his eyes said enough. He was upset with Dean, and Dean couldn't blame him. What kind of person just ran off like that in the middle of a serious conversation? A person with a lot of fucking issues, that's who. He already hated himself enough, and now he was making other people upset because of his issues. Why couldn't he just be normal? Cas might actually like him if he was.

Cas nodded eventually, still silent as he started to push his way past Dean out into the hallway. Dean didn't want to let him go without hearing him speak, but he knew people were waiting on them. Without thinking, Dean reached out, wrapping his fingers around Cas' upper arm, stopping him easily. Cas spun around to face Dean, a frown set into his lips. Dean cleared his throat, looking off to the side, not able to face Cas' judgmental stare. "Are we really going to do this whole silent treatment thing?" he asked, still too proud to just say three simple words. An apology would have solved this whole thing, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. That was another part of his destructiveness. He ruined relationships with people. Friendships, family bonds, romantic relationships. The only person he hadn't managed to drive away in his life was Sam. It was always a matter of time.

"I don't know, Dean," Cas answered, drawing the words out as he spoke slowly. "When I try to talk, you run away. I never know what will set you off. I figured I might as well not talk at all." He inched closer to Dean with every word, until Dean was pressed against the wall because he couldn't move his feet back any further. Cas had an unfamiliar look in his eyes that Dean could only describe as anger, but that didn't seem right either.

"Can we not do this right now, Cas?" Dean hissed, glancing in the direction of the living room nervously, hoping they were being quiet enough that the others wouldn't hear. Sam and Jack didn't need to know they were arguing and they definitely didn't need some stranger knowing their business, no matter how nice the girl was. "I get that you're pissed at me, but maybe it can wait until after dinner before we hash it out," he continued, his own anger scratching the surface. Cas was the last person he wanted to be angry with, and really, it wasn't the angel he was mad at. It was himself, for acting like a child and running away at the first sign of difficult conversations.

"I've got nothing else to say," Cas mumbled, turning abruptly to walk away from Dean, his heavy footsteps receding down the hallway to join the others in the living room. Dean stood there against the wall for a few more seconds, letting his head fall back against the hard surface, cursing at himself for how poorly he just handled that. He had the perfect opportunity to apologize, but instead he fucked it up, just like he did everything else.

Dean didn't stand there hating himself for too long, since they were waiting for him to join them in the living room. He composed himself as best he could, putting on a fake expression of content as he walked into the room, glancing at Cas for only a second before the man's icy glare turned him away. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving," Dean teased, ignoring the rock in his stomach as he looked anywhere but at Cas.

As they left the house, they fell into a comfortable pace walking down the sidewalk. Charlie had taken it upon herself to get introductions out of the way, so everyone was acquainted now. For a few minutes, she grilled Sam about his knowledge of all things nerdy and Sam was happy to oblige. She talked to Jack for a few minutes about all the great events they put on for teens and Jack seemed more than excited to meet other kids and have something to do. The whole time she interacted with Sam and Jack, Dean walked behind them with Castiel. However, they had so much space between them, they would have had to yell to have a conversation. That is, if they had be talking, which they weren't.

Eventually, Sam roped Cas into some conversation about the book he had been reading and since Cas was doing everything in his power to ignore Dean, he happily engaged Sam in conversation. Jack walked with them, acting as if he knew what they were talking about. This left Charlie to fall into step with Dean, a few feet behind the other three. Dean could hear their voices, but not what they were talking about anymore.

"You're quiet," Charlie noticed, her shoulder bumping his as they walked, even her smile unable to put him in a better mood. When she realized that, her smile started to fade, replaced by a look of sad understanding. "I noticed you and your friend seem to be in the middle of an argument or something. It's kind of obvious, the way you two walk so far apart and refuse to even glance at each other." Dean didn't disagree, but he didn't reply either. "Hey, don't worry, he'll come around," she added, her voice quiet so the others couldn't hear her.

Dean offered a small smile, the best he could manage with how awful he felt in that moment. "Maybe," he replied, followed by a small sigh. "This is kind of our first fight," he admitted, his face a little red as he said it. He'd spent two months trying to figure out his feelings for the guy, doing everything he could to see Cas smile. He avoided arguments at all costs. Now that Cas wanted to deepen their relationship by talking about personal things, Dean was freaking out.

Charlie breathed a small laugh, shaking her head. "Guess you're getting past that honeymoon phase," she teased, and Dean chuckled, thinking about how right she was. Their friendship did have that phase, where everything seemed so perfect and Dean didn't want to mess it up. Yet here he was, screwing up everything. "This is a new environment. You're both adjusting to new things. Just give it time. And Dean?" she continued, giving him a judgy look as he raised an eyebrow to say what? She grinned, patting him on the back. "Just make sure you're communicating. That's the key to a healthy relationship."

Dean snorted, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, that's kind of the issue. I'm not great at communication," he explained, staring at the back of Cas' head, nervous for a second that the angel could hear him. But he strained his ears enough to hear Cas deep in conversation with Sam, so he knew he was fine. "He wants me to open up more about my past. . . things I'm not ready to talk about with anyone. I shut down when he brought it up and I don't know how to tell him that I just can't tell him, no matter how much I want to." Dean wasn't sure why he was going into detail for this woman he had just met, but Charlie was just one of those people who made you feel safe and understood. She was a stranger, but she didn't feel like one.

"Just tell him that," Charlie encouraged, linking her arm through Dean's to pull him closer, so she could lower her voice even more. "Tell him you want to be honest and open with him, but there are just some things you're not ready to talk about yet. When you're ready, you'll tell him. It's that simple, Dean. If he cares about you, he'll understand that. But he won't know unless you tell him." She seemed so sure when she spoke, Dean believed her without a second of hesitation. He let her words sink in as he continued watching the back of Cas' head, thinking about how he could talk to Cas later using Charlie's suggestions. Maybe even Charlie's exact words, if he could remember them.

"Thanks, Charlie," Dean mumbled, giving her a grateful look as she beamed up at him. "I've never been good at apologizing or communicating. Never had much of a reason to, but I guess now's as good a time as any to learn, right?"

Charlie squeezed Dean's arm in hers, looking pretty proud of Dean as he admitted that. It made Dean feel good, getting praise from someone, even a stranger. He wasn't used to it, but it was a welcome feeling. "It's my pleasure," Charlie replied. "Relationships are hard. Especially during an apocalypse," she added with a small laugh.

Dean started to agree, and it was only then that the realization sank in. Charlie probably thought Dean and Cas were. . . in a relationship. And not just a friendship, but like, romantically. The way Dean had been talking about him, how could she not? Dean was so stupid.

"I mean, it's not really a relationship," Dean said quickly, trying to fix his mistake. "I realize it may have sounded like I was insinuating that he and I are. . . together, but we're just friends," he explained. Charlie stared at him, confused. He nervously licked his lips, glancing at Cas's head, then back at Charlie. She must have noticed the look of fear on his face, as the thought of anyone knowing Dean's true feelings were terrifying. If John found out, Dean was pretty sure they'd be kicked out, thrown to the monsters for their next meal.

"Oh," Charlie remarked, waving him off with an awkward laugh. "That's my bad, Dean. I shouldn't have assumed. It's just. . . the way you guys act, I thought-" she cut herself off, giving Dean a reassuring smile. "That's my bad," she repeated, shrugging nonchalantly. "But my advice still stands for friendships."

"Right," Dean replied, grateful for her understanding. If she was suspicious of anything, about Dean's true feelings, she didn't say so. Dean appreciated that. He knew not everyone in this little neighborhood would be as understanding as Charlie, so he was glad he at least had her to talk to if he ever did need to tell someone the truth. "Do people around here care about that sort of thing?" Dean found himself asking after a long moment of silence, his eyes still burning into the back of Castiel's head, wishing he could walk next to him, holding his hand like they had this morning. It was a comforting feeling. Charlie's grip on his arm was somewhat comforting, but it wasn't the same.

"What, gay people?" Charlie snorted, keeping her voice down. There were other people walking down the sidewalk towards the building where they were going to eat dinner, but no one close enough to hear their conversation. Dean met her eyes, hoping he didn't have to say anything for her to understand. He nodded, swallowing nervously. She copied his head nod, catching on easily. He didn't have to come out and say it for her to get it. "I've told one person about myself," she whispered, suddenly more serious than Dean had seen her since they met. "There are some people who I know wouldn't care, who might even support us. But John. . ." she trailed off, a guilty expression on her face.

"Tell me about it," Dean grumbled, ignoring her pity. He knew how his father felt about that kind of thing. He had a slight twinge of hope that John had changed in the past ten years, but Charlie had just confirmed that was wishful thinking, and nothing more. "I thought as much," he sighed, still watching Cas, longingly, pining after him like a lovesick puppy. As if Cas could feel Dean's eyes on him, he glanced back, meeting Dean's eyes for a moment. Dean must have had a pretty pathetic look on his face, because despite Castiel's anger with him, the angel still smiled softly before looking away, jumping back into the conversation with Sam.


	9. Chapter Nine

All throughout their meal, Dean kept his eyes to his food, and nowhere else. Besides the occasional glance at Charlie when she spoke to him directly, he wanted to make sure he wouldn't look at Cas. He was formulating some kind of apology in his head. Something he could say to Cas when they got home to make this all go away. He couldn't handle going much longer without Cas talking to him. It would drive him absolutely crazy. So while he ate his food, and sometimes talked to Charlie, he came up with what to say to the angel when they got home. He played the conversation over in his head multiple ways, preparing for all the different ways Cas could react to his apology.

While Dean was deep in thought, he didn't realize his father was right behind him until John put his hand on Dean's shoulder, making him jump. He looked up from his food, meeting his dad's eyes as the older man smiled. "I see you boys found your way here," he said, glancing between Sam and Dean as he talked. "I planned on coming to get you, but I got caught up in some other business. Being in charge of this place, well, it gets pretty hectic," he explained, and Dean really tried to look like he cared, but he was still wrapped up in his own head, trying to work out the kinks in his apology.

"No big deal," Dean promised, keeping his head down. "Charlie here was a great tour guide," he commented, sparing a teasing glance at his new friend, earning him a sweet smile in return.

John squeezed Dean's shoulder fondly, a small breathy laugh leaving his lips. "That's Charlie for you," he agreed. "Anyways, I cleared my schedule tomorrow morning so I can give you the full tour of the neighborhood. I'll assign you your jobs, introduce you to some people, take you to see Bobby-"

"Wait, he's-" Dean started, suddenly very attentive in this conversation. "Bobby is here? He's alive?" he wondered, turning to meet John's gaze, searching those eyes for the answer. John wouldn't joke about that, right? Dean felt a spark of hope in his chest, the kind he should have felt when he saw John for the first time in ten years. Bobby was more of a father figure to Dean than John ever was, and they weren't even blood.

"It'll be a nice surprise for him too when he sees you boys. Doesn't know you're here yet," John answered, patting Dean on the back before taking a step back. "I've got more business to attend to, but I'll see you in the morning."

"See you later, dad,'" Sam called from across the table. Dean gave a small wave, trying to ignore the fact that John didn't tell them first thing that Bobby was alive and in the same place as them. Dean would have gone to him immediately, but now he had to wait until tomorrow with that information just swimming around in his head.

After John was gone, Dean felt himself relax, though he didn't realize he was even that tense until afterwards. When he looked up, he found Cas watching him, that worried look in his eyes. Dean froze, forgetting that he was trying to avoid the guy until they got home. It felt nice to receive some kind of emotion from him other than anger, or just outright being ignored.

They walked home together the same way, Sam and Cas chatting about books Sam read to pass the time, while Dean and Charlie walked behind them. This time, Jack walked beside Dean, rambling on about all the things he was looking forward to doing now that they were here. Charlie was very helpful in giving Jack even more great ideas, while Dean talked about all the trouble he got into as a young kid, leaving out the parts where John made his life a living hell, of course.

When they made it back to the house, Dean waved the other three inside, hanging back to talk to Charlie. She hugged them all, promising to talk to them more tomorrow. Once they were all inside, Dean turned to face Charlie, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket awkwardly. Charlie grinned, as if she knew exactly what he was up to.

"You're stalling, aren't you?" she accused, and Dean opened his mouth to defend himself, but realized she was completely right. He laughed nervously, looking around as if something around him would give him the strength to man up and go talk to Cas. "Dean, you can't run away from this forever," Charlie prodded, giving him a slight shove towards the steps.

Dean stumbled a little, but gained back his footing and stood his ground, even as she tried to push him. "Look, I know you're right, but that doesn't mean I'm happy about it," he complained, chuckling as she finally gave up on shoving him and instead crossed her arms over her chest with a small huff. "The second I go in there and face him, I'm going to forget everything I rehearsed in my head. I'm going to freeze up and piss him off even more. That's what I do, Charlie. I fuck things up."

"Not this," she corrected, thumping his shoulder with a frustrated sigh. "Go in there and talk to him, or so help me god, I'll kick your ass. You don't have to give some huge speech, Dean. Just tell him the truth and- what's that word we talked about?" she asked, poking his chest as he rolled his eyes with a groan. "What's the word Dean? The most important part of all relationships?"

Dean kicked his foot lazily against the sidewalk, staring at the ground as he shrugged his shoulders. Charlie put her hands on her hips impatiently. "Communication," Dean mumbled, though he wasn't happy about it.

"That's right!" she declared, grabbing his shoulders excitedly. "You're gonna be great! Now, go get him, tiger!" Dean tried to object, but Charlie wasn't listening. She turned him around, shoving him up the stairs, this time overpowering him because he knew she would get her way in the end. "And don't let me find out you didn't talk to him. I'll lock your asses in a room together until you work it out," she threatened, and Dean knew that wasn't an empty threat. He believed Charlie really was capable of whatever she put her mind to, and that was kind of scary.

"Alright, alright," Dean complained, shoving the front door open as he cast one more pained look at Charlie as she smirked at him from the bottom of the stairs. She gave him a thumbs up before he looked away, stepping into the house and shutting the door quietly behind him. He shrugged off his jacket, laying it across the back of the couch, then toed off his shoes to leave by the door. With a shaky exhale, he made his way to the back of the house, walking down the dark hallway, and then was at Castiel's door, feet glued to the floor as he tried to work up the nerve to knock. When he finally did, there was no answer. Dean waited a few more seconds before just opening the door himself, inching it open slowly, until he saw Cas sitting on the edge of his bed.

For a moment, they just stared at each other. Cas had shed his coat, now sitting in his dress pants, button up, and that new tie Dean had given him this morning. He had his hands on the tie, trying to unknot it, but his fingers stilled when Dean walked into the room. Finally, Cas sighed. "I can't get this loosened," he mumbled, looking down at his hands.

Dean couldn't help the nervous laugh that came out as he stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. "Come here," he instructed, meeting Cas in the middle of the room, where they stood too close for Dean to breath normally. He batted Cas' hands away from the tie to do it himself. For a few moments, they stood there in silence, Dean's fingers working the tie knot until it came undone. "There," Dean hummed, sliding the tie over Cas' neck before folding it up neatly, handing it back to Cas with a small smile. As Cas took the tie, their fingers brushed, and the contact reminded Dean of why he was there in the first place. "Can we talk?" he blurted out, trying to hold onto the lines he had rehearsed. "About what happened earlier?" he elaborated when Cas cocked his head to the side in confusion.

Cas went back to sitting on the bed, his hands on his thighs as he looked at Dean. "It's fine, Dean. We can just forget about it." He didn't seem angry anymore. He hadn't seemed angry since that look he gave Dean at dinner, but there was still something bothering him. Something caused by Dean, which meant he needed to make it right.

"No, we can't," Dean answered, keeping his voice down so only Cas would be able to hear him. Cas' eyes widened in surprise, probably because Dean never wanted to talk, yet here he was, practically begging for Cas to hear him out. "I just. . . I'm trying to communicate better. Starting with you, I guess." The lines he rehearsed were gone, just like he knew they would be. He was winging this whole thing, but Cas had to know that Dean was sorry.

"That's great, Dean," Cas replied with a sincere smile, barely there, but still visible. "But really, it's okay. I know I was asking too much of you." The words were comforting, but it let Dean off the hook too easily. He could have handled the situation much better than he did, and for that, he still had to apologize.

"You were," Dean agreed, and Cas raised an eyebrow. "I mean, you didn't know that you were overstepping. I should have told you." He felt his heart beating hard against his chest, the nerves taking over. He was afraid he might not get the right words, but so far, so good. "There's a lot I want to share with you, Cas. Because you make me feel safe enough to tell you. I want to talk about my past, my relationship with my dad, my deepest darkest secrets. . . but I can't. I wish I could, and I can't explain it, but I just can't. Not yet, and maybe not ever. But I do trust you, okay?"

"Okay," Cas said slowly, eyes narrowing as he studied Dean. "So next time you don't want to talk about something, you'll tell me that?" he asked, waiting as Dean nodded. Cas paused, still studying, and Dean shifted nervously under the angel's gaze. "And you won't run away, leaving me alone to wonder what I did to upset you? Letting me sit and worry, hoping I didn't push you so far that you'd never want to speak to me again?"

Dean's heart sank at those words, and even further when he looked into those blue eyes, filled with a type of hurt Dean would never wish on anyone. The fear of losing someone, of being abandoned by those you care about most. He spent his entire life with that look in his eyes, and now to see it on the face of someone he cared about. . . he hated himself for causing that.

"I'm so sorry, Cas," he whispered, his knees buckling enough that he just gave in, sinking to the floor in front of Cas. He kept his hands in his lap, even though he wanted to grab onto Cas, pull him against his chest and never let go. "I'll never push you away like that. I'll always want you in my life. I have since the day I met you."

"We've gotten closer, Dean," Cas spoke slowly, his expression softening, a much better look on him than the hurt Dean caused. "I want to keep getting closer. I don't want to lose this- us," he admitted, sincerity in his words. "In the few years since I lost my grace, this is the most human I've felt." Dean didn't speak, mostly because he didn't know how to respond to that. He wasn't sure what Cas was saying, only that it was good things. Things that made Dean's chest tight, knowing whatever was between them was getting dangerously close to being more than just friends. Dean wanted that, but it was impossible. He had to stay far away from those feelings.

"So, we're okay?" Dean asked, leaning back against his heels, swallowing the lump in his throat. He suddenly felt pretty pathetic, begging on his knees like this, but he didn't move. He kept his eyes on Cas, praying the guy could forgive him and things would go back to normal. Normal being. . . Dean pining over a guy, knowing he couldn't have him, even if Cas did feel the same. Perfectly healthy.

"We're okay," Cas confirmed, a fond look in his eyes as he tugged on Dean's sleeve to get him up on the bed, sitting next to Cas as they stared at each other. The silence stretched on until it became uncomfortable. "I think we should sleep this day off," Cas sighed, standing up suddenly. "Tomorrow will be better. Don't you think?"

Dean chewed on his lip, giving Cas a small shrug. Maybe it would, or maybe that was wishful thinking. "Sure, man. I'll see you in the morning," he replied quietly, already getting up off the bed. He stretched his arms over his head, secretly wishing Cas would ask him to stay, but he knew that wouldn't happen. Even if it did, it would be a bad idea. Dean really needed to try to stop falling for this guy before things went too far. Before Dean ended up getting him hurt, or worse.

"Goodnight, Dean," Cas said, and they exchanged small, exhausted smiles, before Dean trudged back into the living room, checking in on Sam and Jack on the way. Both were already sound asleep, having been tired out from a long day. Dean got comfy on the couch, sticking his pillow under his head as he pulled his blanket up over his shoulders. It took a lot of tossing and turning to find a comfortable position to sleep, but eventually, he drifted off too.

Dean woke the next morning, his arm hanging off the side of the couch with his face squished against his pillow, his mouth dry. He groaned at the sunlight shining through the curtains and blindly swung his arm up to shield his eyes. His eyes flew open when his hand made contact with something on the floor, forcing him wide awake in seconds. "What the-" he started, leaning over the couch to see what the hell it was, only to be met by a sleeping angel. Dean blinked slowly, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. "Cas, what the hell?" he mumbled, mostly to himself, since Castiel was still sound asleep. He looked pretty peaceful too, so Dean hated to disturb him. He had a pillow under his head and the blanket was covering one of his legs and part of his torso, but there was still a strip of bare skin exposed. Dean raked his eyes over Cas' body, admiring him while he could, because once he was awake, he'd have to stop being a creep. Except, he took his sweet time looking at him, and when his eyes finally traveled back to Castiel's face, there were two blue eyes blinking up at him.

"Hello, Dean," he greeted groggily, making Dean freeze. He felt his face heating up already, knowing Cas had just caught him staring. Lucky for him, Cas didn't mention anything about the staring, or the red cheeks. Instead, he just pulled the blanket closer to his chin, turning over on his side, still looking at Dean expectantly.

Dean sighed, running a hand over his face as he tried to wrap his head around why Cas would be asleep on the floor in the living room, instead of in his nice warm bed. "Dude, what are you doing in here?" he asked after racking his brain for a few long moments and coming up with nothing plausible. "You have a freaking bed."

"I couldn't sleep," Cas answered simply, as if that explained it. It didn't. It made it ten times more confusing. Dean stared at the angel in disbelief, opening and closing his mouth multiple times as he searched for a response to that. "What?" Cas wondered, suddenly sitting up, putting his face even closer to Dean's. The blanket fell away from his shoulders, pooling around Castiel's waist, revealing Dean's old Led Zeppelin t-shirt he gave to Cas two months ago.

Dean shook his head, shoving his face into his pillow for a moment before looking back at Cas, who was still just confused. He didn't understand why Dean was confused, so now they were both sitting there with stupid looks on their faces for completely different reasons. "Cas. . ." Dean drawled, their eyes locked. "If you couldn't sleep, why the hell would you move to the hard floor?"

Cas cocked his head to the side, letting the question sink in, like it took effort to answer it. The question was simple, and one Dean felt like he didn't even need to ask. But this was Cas, so there were a lot of things Dean didn't feel like he should have to explain, but he ended up doing it anyways. "You were in here," Cas replied, narrowing his eyes as he studied Dean's expression. "There wasn't enough room for two people on the couch, so naturally, I took the space on the floor."

Dean groaned, staring up at the ceiling as he frustratedly pulled his hair. "Cas, that still doesn't explain why-" he cut himself off, knowing that tone would get him nowhere. He took a deep breath, looking at Cas again, giving him a pointed look. "Dude, you can't sleep on the floor when you have a bed, okay? First, it's not good for you. That has to kill your back. Second, there's a reason I let you have the room. It's so you could finally get a good night's sleep in a real bed. Don't take that for granted, man." He could tell none of this was getting through to Cas, but he said it anyways.

"But Dean," Cas argued, still clearly confused. "I couldn't fall asleep in the bed. You know I have trouble sleeping. For two months, I've slept on the floor. I thought it would help to have the same environment, so I moved to the floor in my room. I still couldn't sleep. Then I realized, I didn't have you snoring in my ear, so I came in here. Finally, I could fall asleep. That's why I'm not sleeping in my bed."

"Dude, you have to sleep in your bed!" Dean cried, wishing he could somehow get it through Cas' head. "You'll adjust to the new environment with time, okay?"

Cas was silent for a moment, curiously eyeing him. "I don't want to waste time adjusting to a new sleeping environment when I know this one works," he argued, shaking his head stubbornly. "If you want me to sleep in the bed, you'll have to sleep in the bed with me. Otherwise, I'll be on the floor here from now on."

Dean's face turned a deep shade of red at the suggestion as he sat straight up, pulling the pillow into his lap. "Cas, we can't sleep in the same bed," he hissed, glaring at him for even bringing it up. If anyone heard him talking like that, it would look suspicious. Sam didn't need that kind of fuel to make fun of Dean, and if John happened to decide it was a good idea to come over right then, in the middle of that conversation, well they'd all be screwed.

"Why not?" Cas genuinely wondered, clearly not understanding the implications of sharing a bed with someone like that. "We slept next to each other on the floor before. Isn't that the same thing?"

"No, it's not," Dean grumbled. "Look, can you please just figure out how to sleep in your own bed?" For Cas, sharing a bed would just be a normal thing friends did, because the guy had no idea how certain concepts worked. But for Dean, sharing a bed with Cas would be difficult. He wouldn't be able to sleep because he'd be so distracted by their close proximity. It would be impossible. Not to mention, Sam and Jack would know if Dean stopped sleeping on the couch, and they would easily be able to tell he was sharing a room with Cas.

"Dean, I don't understand," Cas continued, refusing to let it go. "We have been sleeping together for two months. What's the big deal?"

"Jesus Christ, Cas, you can't say shit like that!" Dean nearly yelled, his face burning as Cas innocently stared at him, wondering what he had said wrong. Dean sighed, running his hands over his face again, trying to remind himself that Cas had only been human for a few years and that was why he didn't understand these kinds of things. "People who share beds are usually together," Dean tried to explain without embarrassing himself further.

"We're not. . . together?" Cas asked, a frown setting on his lips. "We're friends, Dean. We live together, eat together, travel together. . . what does that make us?"

Dean was trying not to get angry and frustrated, but sometimes Cas was the hardest person to talk to, aside from Jack. Those two didn't understand anything unless it was spelled out for them. "No, Cas," Dean grumbled. "Together, like, romantically. When people sleep together, it's implied that they share a romantic relationship."

Finally, Cas gave an understanding look, and Dean sighed audibly in relief, thinking he had avoided catastrophe. Except, Cas' face fell again, an even deeper frown on his face as he looked away from Dean, staring at his hands. "And you don't want. . . you don't want a romantic relationship," Cas stated, though it seemed like it was implied more as a question.

"No," Dean replied too quickly, rubbing the back of his neck as the heat crept up to his ears. God, he wanted nothing more than to be with Cas, but for many reasons, that could never happen. Not now, and not here. "Wait-" Dean mumbled, pausing until Cas looked at him again, both of them awkwardly staring at each other. "Do you. . . Is that what you want?" Dean managed to ask, though he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

"No," Cas denied, and then, "I mean, maybe. I don't know." The words hit Dean like a bag of bricks, knocking the wind out of him. Did Cas just admit that he felt something for Dean? That was the last thing Dean needed when trying to get away from the feelings he had for Cas. For the angel to give him hope. Dean swallowed the lump in his throat, his heart beating so hard he could feel it in his ears. "I don't know what it means to be romantically interested in anyone. I've never had the opportunity. I have no experience. But I guess since you don't want anything like that, I have nothing to worry about. We can just stay how we are, right?" There it was. Cas didn't have feelings for Dean. He just didn't have experience with human emotions. He was getting friendship confused with romantic relationships. That had to be it.

"Right," Dean agreed, the word making his heart clench. He had been so close, but it was better this way. Staying friends with Cas was the right choice. The safe one. Dean decided to move on from that subject, instead taking the opportunity to ask more about Cas' personal life. "You mean to tell me you've been on earth for ten years and haven't even kissed anyone?" he teased, making Cas roll his eyes.

"I haven't," Cas confirmed, leaning back on his hands, exposing a strip of his stomach. Dean glanced once, then forced himself to keep his eyes on Cas' face. "When I fell to earth, it was with a hundred of my brothers and sisters. We spent ten years hiding from everything and everyone, keeping to ourselves, even after we lost our grace. Even as the undead picked us off one by one, we stuck together. There were never any newcomers, no one we crossed paths with, nothing," he explained, going into more detail than Dean had ever gotten from him. All Dean knew before was that Cas had been with others, but he didn't know how many, or what happened to them. "Never a chance for romance."

"Makes sense," Dean mumbled, wishing he could make that frown go away. He hated how frequent it was in Cas' expressions. "There's plenty of time for you to experience it," Dean went on, trying to cheer him up. Cas didn't smile, instead meeting Dean's hopeful look with a sad one. "One day, there'll be someone you want to share a bed with," Dean teased, and Cas looked away, his face red.

"If that's the case, maybe I am romantically interested in you, Dean," he joked, despite the blush on his face. Dean matched it, now both of them awkward and embarrassed. "That was too far?" Cas asked, followed by a small chuckle. Dean grinned after hearing the angel laugh, shaking his head no. Nothing was too far if it made Cas happy and erased that frown.

Unfortunately, the moment was over when a loud knock came from the front door. Dean shucked the blanket and pillow off his lap, ready to get up and answer it, but the door was already being pushed open, revealing John, dressed in his clothes for the day and a bright smile on his lips. "Goodmorning!" he beamed, and Dean tried to smile back, but he was still too tired to be pretending he was happy to see his father.

"Hey, dad," Dean greeted, standing up to greet him. "Sam and Jack are still asleep, but I can wake them," he added, remembering that John was giving them a tour today.

John nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets as he glanced between Dean and Cas, who was still on the floor in his pile of blankets and pillows. It was obvious he had slept there, but Dean prayed John wouldn't ask about it. That was something that couldn't easily be explained and Dean didn't want to get into it again.

"That'd be great," John agreed, taking a seat in the recliner opposite the couch. "We'll go have breakfast with Bobby and Ellen, then the grand tour," he said, making Dean genuinely smile at the mention of his uncle.

"Great, I'll be right back," Dean promised. He quickly ran to wake up the others, banging on Sammy's door until he yelled at Dean that he was already awake and getting dressed. Jack was much nicer when Dean woke him up, even smiling at Dean and telling him good morning. After about twenty minutes, they were all dressed and ready to go. Dean followed John out the door in anticipation, more than excited to see Bobby for the first time in ten years. Cas was right last night when he said today would be a better day. It was already off to a great start.


End file.
